


You Set My Heart Ablaze

by JaskiersWolf



Series: You Set My Heart Ablaze AU [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bisexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Disabled Character, Everyone Is Gay, Firefighter Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff and Angst, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Slow Burn, Teacher Jaskier | Dandelion, Young Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 99,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25577287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaskiersWolf/pseuds/JaskiersWolf
Summary: Geralt hadn't realised just how lonely he was before Ciri had moved in with him following the accident that tore her family apart. His life had just been work, sleep, eat, repeat. He had never expected to become a single parent but Destiny had other plans for him and now he wouldn't change it for the world.Now, if only he could get Ciri's blue-eyed teacher out of his head then everything would be fine.Or a fireman!Geralt/teacher!Jaskier fic that no one asked for, and yet here we are.
Relationships: Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Triss Merigold, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: You Set My Heart Ablaze AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192664
Comments: 702
Kudos: 778





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt swore as he knocked into his bedside table, hopping from one foot to the other as he tried to pull on his socks. He’d have a nasty bruise on his shin by that evening but he’d had worse, a lot worse. Across his chest was a web of puckered scar tissue that he’d had ever since he was a child. He growled under his breath and pulled his shirt on hurriedly.

“Geralt!!” Ciri shouted from downstairs. “Come on! We’re gonna be late!”

He glanced at the clock and swore again. She was right. It had taken so long to get her dressed and sat down eating breakfast that he’d lost track of time. He pulled half his hair back into a black hair tie and stared back at his reflection in the mirror. He looked passable.

“Coming, Princess.” He called back to his young ward.

He’d known Ciri since she was born, and he’d known her parents well before the accident. Pavetta and Duny had been two of the kindest people he’d had the pleasure to have known and he’d been honoured when they’d asked him to become Ciri’s Godfather. Of course, at the time, he’d only ever expected his duties to be a sort of uncle figure in her life. No one could have predicted they would have been taken from the Earth so soon. Ciri had spent the next few years with her Grandmother, during which time Geralt had barely seen his Goddaughter. He and Calanthe had never really seen eye to eye and the elder woman had decided Geralt was a bad influence on her granddaughter’s life.

Still, Geralt had been sad when he’d received the call at the beginning of summer that the woman and her husband Eist had passed away and Ciri would become his ward. Calanthe had been a fierce woman and Geralt found he had a lot of respect for her, despite their differences.

And now he was raising a child as a single father.

It wasn’t where he’d seen his life going but Ciri had brightened up his lonely existence considerably and he would not change having her in his life for the world. He’d not realised just how lonely he was before Ciri had moved in with him. His life had just been work, sleep, eat repeat. He worked hard to afford his house and then never actually spent any time there because he was always working or at the pub with Lambert, Eskel and Renfri. Since Ciri, he’d realised it was alright to spend time staying still at home.

He shook his head and made his way down the stairs. It was Ciri’s first day at school and then he’d have to make his way to the station for the start of his shift. Vesemir had been very understanding and now allowed Geralt to work his shifts around his young ward. He now started after the school run, and he would only do on-call or evenings if Yen or one of the wolf pack was around to babysit over night.

“Geralt!” Ciri called again and ran out of the kitchen. She had her shoes on but the laces were flying and Geralt only just reached the bottom of the stairs in time to catch her as she tripped. Her hair flew out behind her in a cloud of ashen blonde and he was hit by the scent of her floral shampoo. He chuckled. Lilacs. Just like Yen. Ciri had probably chosen her shampoo to mimic Yennefer’s after his ex had spent the week with them over the summer.

“Got ya!” He chuckled as he pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back tightly, she always did, and he stroked his fingers through her long ashen hair. “Be careful, Princess.” He dropped her down on the bottom step and tied her laces, explaining what he was doing as he looped the laces round. She watched carefully, sticking her tongue out in concentration. “You can have a go tomorrow.”

“Let’s go!” She whined and pulled him by the hand towards the door.

“Wait.” He ruffled her hair and gestured towards his own boots, sitting down to pull them on.

“Hmmph.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted at him. “We’re gonna be late on my first day! Everyone is gonna laugh at me.”

Geralt’s eyes snapped up from where he was tying his own shoelaces at the sudden vulnerability in the young girl’s voice. He frowned and tilted his head as he tried to search for the answers in her bright green eyes.

“Why?” He huffed when he found no answer.

Ciri shifted awkwardly and scraped her feet on the floor. “They did at my old school.”

Geralt tensed and he felt a bubble of rage in his chest as he finished off his laces. “Why?”

But Ciri couldn’t find the words. Her eyes filled with tears and she spun round to avoid his gaze. He stood up and pulled the young girl into another hug and kissed her hair. “They won’t laugh, little Lion Cub, and you must tell me or your teacher if they do. Promise?”

Ciri nodded against his chest and then wiped the tears away. The next minute it was as if the whole moment had never happened and she plastered a smile on her face and pulled Geralt determinedly towards the door. He grabbed his keys off their hook and let himself be pulled towards his old truck.

“Come on!” She trilled and he let himself smile at her newfound excitement.

He made a note to check in with Yen to see if she knew whether Ciri had had any problems at her old school. After the death of both her parents and her grandparents, Ciri was bound to have been the odd one out and Geralt knew from experience how cruel kids could be when you were the odd one out.

The drive went without any further incident. Ciri was happily chatting away about all the new things she couldn’t wait to learn, wondering what her new friends would be like, and her new teachers. Geralt had received an email from the school administrator a few weeks before. Ciri was going to be in Mr Pankratz’s class, otherwise known as Buttercups. All the tutor groups in Ciri’s school were named after flowers. Yen’s tutor group had been called Lilacs before she’d quit teaching a few years ago to focus on her career as an art critic. She’d enjoyed spending time with the children but had found that teaching didn’t suit her and her online art blog had been growing in numbers almost everyday. She’d begun to make a name for herself over the last few years and had been jet-setting all over the world after receiving invitations to all the most prodigious galas and gallery openings.

It had been one of the reasons they’d grown apart. Geralt hadn’t enjoyed the glitz and glamour of Yen’s new life, and she hadn’t been content to stay in the small town for the rest of her life. The spark that had kept bringing them back together after every fight had fizzled out and they’d realised that deep down their relationship had never really meant to last. They were both too headstrong, too stubborn. Still, she knew him better than he knew himself and they stayed in contact. He didn’t have many friends outside of his work life and he didn’t want to lose Yen. He still loved her and she was his best friend. Life without Yennefer Vengerberg would be very dull indeed.

It had been Yennefer who had managed to use her connections with the school to get Ciri a place last minute once she’d moved in with him over the summer. Yennefer was still friendly with the staff and regularly met up with a handful of them when she was in town. Geralt pulled up and parked the car. He helped Ciri pull her rucksack onto her shoulders and held her hand as they headed towards the reception.

A pretty young woman was manning the desk. She had curly dark caramel coloured hair and dark chocolate eyes. Her skin was tanned and her cheeks were painted with a flurry of freckles. He frowned. She seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn’t recall ever meeting her and he was usually pretty good with faces. She smiled brightly when she saw them approach and stood up to shake his hand.

“Mr Rivia?” She asked.

“Hmm.” He nodded. “Call me Geralt.” He added.

“Excellent. I’m Ms Merigold.” She smiled as she released his hand.

Merigold.

That was Yennefer’s best friend’s name. Triss Merigold. They’d never managed to meet up whilst he’d been dating Yennefer, and Geralt had started to suspect that Yen had purposely never introduced them. Maybe she’d been jealous. More likely she’d realised their relationship was never meant to last and there was no point in involving her friends. Geralt had been optimistic and Yennefer had been introduced to all the most important people in his life. He felt a pang of sadness to know she’d never allowed him the same courtesy.

She ticked off Ciri’s name on the clipboard in front of her. Geralt grimaced when he noticed hers was the last name. This single parenting lark was going to be a lot harder than he expected. “Don’t worry. There’s still time.” She turned to Ciri. “And you must be Cirilla?”

Ciri made face and scrunched up her nose at her full name.

“She prefers Ciri.” Geralt explained.

“I’m sorry Ciri. I didn’t know. We’ll make sure all the teacher’s know before you have any classes with them.” Ms Merigold smiled down at his ward. Ciri scowled whilst she considered the other woman’s apology and then her face broke into a bright smile. “You’ll just need to let Mr Pankratz know.”

“Thank you, Ms Merigold!” She beamed.

“Follow me. I’ll show you to Mr Pankratz’s class. You too, Geralt. Jaskier, Mr Pankratz, likes to meet all the parent’s on the first day.” Ms Merigold walked around to their side of the desk and started to make her way through the corridors, pointing out important locations to Ciri on the way, the toilets, the school assembly hall, the dining room.

Ms Merigold stopped in front of a bright yellow door that was covered in kid’s drawings of buttercups. The name ‘Jaskier’ was scrawled out in elegant calligraphy under the thin window pane.

“Here we go. Once you’re done, Mr Rivia, Geralt, if you could drop back to reception and we’ll finish up the paperwork.” Ms Merigold gave Ciri a small wave and wandered back down the corridor.

Geralt took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The music that was floating through the door, halted and Geralt heard a voice through the buttercup covered door.

“Come in!”

Geralt scowled at the cheery tone and pushed the door open. In the middle of the room, surrounding by tiny children, was a sunny looking brunet cradling a guitar in his arms. His face broke into a grin when he saw them. Geralt felt like he’d been punched in the gut as Jaskier’s brilliant blue eyes met his. He’d never seen eyes that blue before. They seemed to shine and glitter in the bright lights of the classroom. He was… radiant.

Geralt tore his gaze away from the teacher and looked around the room. He knew he had a habit of staring too much and with his larger frame he had a tendency to be intimidating. He didn’t want to terrorise Ciri’s new teacher on her first day. It would only make her school life harder for her. Although, Jaskier’s eyes were so captivating and unique, Geralt could hardly be the first person to gawk at him.

“Ahh Mr Rivia! At last. And you must be…”

“Ciri.” Geralt cut the younger man off. “This is Ciri.”

“Ciri!” Jaskier jumped up excitedly and swung his guitar onto his back and extended his hand to the young girl. “Nice to meet you Ciri, I’m Mr Pankratz but everyone calls me Jaskier.”

Ciri giggled and shook Jaskier’s hand. “That’s a funny name.”

“Princess.” Geralt warned in a low voice.

“No no. It’s fine.” Jaskier just waved it off with a charming smile that made Geralt’s stomach flip. He turned back to the children behind him with a wave of his hand. “Right everyone,” Geralt noticed he was making gestures with his hands as he spoke. It looked like sign language not that Geralt was overly familiar.

“I want you all to think of three things that have made you happy this morning and share them with as many people as possible. It can be as simple as having a yummy breakfast, or a parent picking out your favourite top for you to wear. Go!”

He finished off with a final wave of his hands, his tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the last couple of words. A little boy in a beanie was watching him intently until the very end. He had an adult sitting nearby who smiled appreciatively at Jaskier.

The classroom erupted with noise but Jaskier’s eyes just danced with excitement. He’d probably have a hard time calming the children back down but it gave him a chance to talk to Ciri and Geralt without much disturbance. Jaskier turned back to Ciri with a more serious expression. “Jaskier isn’t my real name Ciri, but I chose it. Just like you chose Ciri, right?”

Ciri’s nose scrunched up as she took in what her teacher was saying and then nodded.

“Just because we chose our names, doesn’t make them any less important. A name is a very personal thing Ciri. We should be openminded, yeah?” Jaskier spoke calmly, fixing his blue gaze on the younger girl.

She blushed a little but nodded. “Yeah.”

“Wonderful.” Jaskier trilled happily. “Now, go join the others. Remember I want three things that put a smile on your face this morning. What’s the first one?”

“Cub!” Ciri replied with a laugh.

“Her stuffed lion.” Geralt explained when he saw the flash of confusion on her teacher’s face. He immediately brightened up at Geralt’s explanation and met Geralt’s eyes with a grateful expression.

“That would make me happy too. You’ll have to bring Cub in one day so we can meet them.” Jaskier’s voice was so sincere and genuine that Geralt almost believed that the young man would like nothing more than to meet Ciri’s stuffed toy lion. “Off you go then.”

Ciri scampered off to meet the rest of the class. Geralt watched after her nervously but Ciri was already better than him at making friends and she’d already introduced herself to two of her peers before Geralt turned back to face her teacher.

“Mr Rivia.”

“Geralt.” He insisted.

“Geralt.” Jaskier nodded. Geralt’s name sounded like molten chocolate coming from Jaskier’s mouth. He turned back to watch Ciri so that the teacher couldn’t see the blush that he was fighting down unsuccessfully. “I just wanted to check with you to see if there’s anything we can do to make Ciri’s school life easier. The other children aren’t aware of her, circumstances, shall we say? If she ever needs time off or you think a therapist at school would help her then we can accommodate that. She’s far too young to have known so much death.”

“Hmm.” Geralt nodded. Jaskier wasn’t wrong. “I’ll have a think. Thank you, Jaskier.”

“So what’s made you happy today, Geralt?” Jaskier asked with a wink.

You.

The word almost escaped his lips and took him off guard.

Instead, he took a deep breath and turned to face the teacher, desperately trying to ignore the smile that seemed to brighten up the whole room, or the way his eyes twinkled as if he knew the most exciting secret.

“Ciri.” He paused. “And the coffee machine.”

Jaskier’s chiming laugh filled the room. “Ah yes the elixir that is coffee. That’s only two things though, come now Geralt even the kids can count to three.”

“Hmm.” Geralt struggled to think. “Ciri was nervous this morning.”

“And that made you happy?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow at him and put a hand on his hip.

“No, of course not. Let me finish.” Geralt almost growled at him before he remembered that this man wasn’t his friend, he was his daughter’s teacher. “She was nervous, and you made her laugh.”

“So, I made you happy?” Jaskier smirked mirthfully.

“No.” This time Geralt did growl the word. He couldn’t help it, this man was just so infuriating. Of course he was. No one could be that beautiful and not be a pain in the arse. “You made Ciri happy. Ciri being happy made me happy.”

“Ciri’s on your list twice.” Jaskier pointed out.

“Problem?” Geralt raised an eyebrow at the younger man.

“No. No. No problem.” Jaskier grinned. “Right. I need to get back to the little devils. Triss, Ms Merigold, will set you up with my email address should you need it, she’ll also need your phone number incase there’s a problem here. I’ll look after Ciri, Geralt. I promise.”

Geralt grunted with a nod and turned to leave the room.

“Wait. Geralt.” Jaskier called. “One last thing.”

Geralt tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at the brunet.

“If we can’t get hold of you. Is there someone else to contact in emergencies?” Jaskier fiddled with the strap of his guitar.

“Hmm. You could try my work. Vesemir, or Yennefer if she’s in town.”

“Vengerberg?”

“That’s right.”

“You know Yennefer Vengerberg?” Jaskier looked at him wide eyed.

“Yes.” Geralt nodded wearily, Jaskier was probably a fan. Yen’s art blog had become something of a sensation after all.

“I met her once. She left before I started here, but she’s become something of a legend amongst the staff. Mr Gynvael speaks very highly of her.” Jaskier explained although the way his gaze drifted awkwardly to the floor made Geralt think there was probably more to that story than Jaskier was letting on.

“Hmm.” Geralt didn’t quite know what to say to that.

Luckily for him one of the children started to cry and Jaskier instantly slipped back into teacher mode, rushing over to where a child had fallen on the floor. “Hey hey. It’s alright. Can you show me what hurts?” Jaskier cooed to the small child.

Geralt smiled at the easy care that Jaskier had with the children. He would be far better at being thrown into single parenthood. Geralt sighed and walked out the classroom. He glanced at his watch and cursed. Vesemir would not be impressed with him. He was much later than he’d anticipated but he could always say it was an exception for the first day.

He pulled out his phone and hit his second speed dial.

Vesemir picked up on the second ring “Ah White Wolf. You’d better have a good explanation.” Vesemir chuckled.

“Ah. Fuck. Yes.” Geralt sighed. “I’m on my way.”

* * *

Geralt ached. His body was tired from running drills with Lambert, Eskel and Renfri all morning. They had also been called out a few times. Nothing major luckily, an unfortunate microwave incident in the local University dorms, a couple of house calls that were easily contained and the hugely stereotypical my cat is stuck in a tree call. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he unlocked the door to his flat. He’d barely stepped across the threshold when a blur of ashen blonde hair came flying at him and he caught Ciri in his arms and spun her around.

“Geralt!” She giggled happily as she flew through the air.

“Hi Princess. How was school?” He asked his ward.

“It was great! Mr Jaskier is the best!” She sang happily. “He was telling us all about words that sound the same, and Dara can’t hear properly so Mr Jaskier is teaching us how to speak with our hands!”

“Yeah?” Geralt smiled fondly down at the young girl as he carried them both to the kitchen where Coën was waiting for them both. Geralt nodded at him in greeting. “What words sound the same?” He prompted wondering how much she would have learnt on her first day.

“Yeah! Like bee and tree!” Ciri nattered away happily.

“Hmm. And you were a good girl for Coën when he picked you up from school?” He asked.

Ciri pouted. “I’m always good!”

Geralt chuckled. “Of course.” He turned to her babysitter. “Thanks Coën. Any problems?”

“None at all. She was an angel.” Coën said with a laugh as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “She’s even been teaching me how to sign the alphabet. Ciri, show Geralt how to sign your name.” Coën asked with a gentle smile. Ciri beamed back and scrunched up her nose and she slowly spelled out her name with her hands.

Geralt made a mental note to look up sign language courses online. If one of Ciri’s friends used sign language then it was only a matter of time before they ended up on a playdate and he wanted to be able to communicate with his ward’s friends and support Ciri in her learning.

“That’s good, Ciri.” He praised a little awkwardly. He’d never been particularly open with his feelings but it was something he was working on for her. He knew children needed praise and encouragement so he was trying his best.

The three of them sat in the kitchen for a few minutes whilst Ciri tried to go through the whole alphabet. She forgot a few of the later letters but Coën had already looked them up on his phone and was able to remind her. Geralt’s respect for the teenager grew. He was the son of one of Vesemir’s former colleagues and Vesemir had recommended him as a babysitter once he heard about Calanthe and Eist’s death.

Once Ciri had reached the end of the alphabet, Coën hugged her goodbye and Geralt shook his hand. “I’ll see you both tomorrow then. Bye Ciri!” He called with a wave before picking up his bag and heading to the front door.

“See ya!” Ciri waved him goodbye and then turned her attention back to Geralt. “Did you know nothing sounds like orange?”

“Hmm. I did. Did Mr Jaskier tell you that?” Geralt asked as he lowered Ciri back to the floor and began to root around in the fridge for his dinner.

“Yup! Purple doesn’t have a word rhyme either.” Ciri grinned.

“Hmm. I never thought about that. Mr Jaskier is a clever man.” Geralt smiled softly at the memory of Jaskier’s bright eyes and kind smile.

“He’s the bestest!” Ciri agreed. “but don’t worry, Dad, you’re still my favourite.”

Geralt’s heart stopped in his chest.

“Dad?” He asked quietly.

“Well obviously.” Ciri said with her hands on her hips.

“Come here.” Geralt said and pulled her into a big hug.

“Oh there’s something from Mr Jaskier on the table for you!” Ciri said as she squirmed in his arms.

“Hmm?” Geralt let his daughter go and saw a yellow envelope on the table.

“He said to make sure you saw it.” Ciri insisted.

Geralt flipped the envelope over. He was sealed shut by a small blob of teal wax. Geralt chuckled at the sight of it. He should have known that Ciri’s teacher would be the extravagant type. He opened the envelope carefully, tracing the elegant letters of his name. He’d never known anyone else with such dramatic writing. He wondered if Jaskier wrote on the whiteboard like that or whether he’d made an effort for the letter. Geralt scowled at that. Why would Jaskier make an effort for him? He shook the thought from his mind. He wasn’t special. Jaskier had probably written a letter like this to all the parents.

The writing inside, however, wasn’t nearly as neat. It wasn’t bad but it was definitely more of a scrawl than calligraphy.

_Hi Geralt!_

_Thank you for coming in to see me on Ciri’s first day. I always prefer to meet the parents sooner rather than later so we can work together to give the kids the best start in life that we can. Normally I would send an email at the end of the week to give all the parents an update on their child’s progress and what we’ve learnt but it’s the first day so that’s all a bit exciting isn’t it?_

_Ciri is an absolute delight! She makes friends very easily and seems to have the whole class wrapped around her little finger. She’s even managed to bring one of the shyer kids, Dara, out of his shell. You should be very proud of her._

_On a more serious note, Ciri has noticed that her family situation isn’t exactly common. Most of the kids in our class have two parents or live with their mother. We had to have a little chat after lunch. She got a bit upset that she didn’t have a mum and dad but we talked about how family is important, especially the ones we choose. If there’s anything I can do to help please let me know. If there are any topics that are best to avoid etc._

_Anyhoo! Today we learnt about rhyming words and started work on writing our numbers and alphabet. In the morning we learnt a new song together and started learning sign language! A wonderful skill to have, I think, and this afternoon we had to draw one of the things that made us happy. Ciri should have her drawing done by the end of tomorrow! I expect to see all her drawings pinned to the fridge. No slacking, Geralt._

_I am absolutely thrilled to be teaching Ciri this year! Here’s to the rest of a brilliant year with the Buttercups!_

_Kindest Regards,_

_Jaskier._

Geralt didn’t realise he was smiling until Ciri peered up at him with a smirk on her face.

“Dad, do you like Mr Jaskier?” She cackled.

“He’s a good teacher, Princess.” He scowled down at her.

“He’s got pretty eyes.” Ciri hummed thoughtfully.

“Cirilla. Go to bed.” Geralt snapped.

“But Dad!” She whined.

“Don’t forget your teeth.” He grunted.

“Urgh. Fine.” She stormed off upstairs in a huff.

Geralt gently traced the letters of Jaskier’s name at the bottom of the paper. Jaskier was a beautiful man, there was no denying that. It was the first thing Geralt had noticed when he’d walked into Ciri’s classroom. You’d have to blind not to notice that, even Yen would probably agree and Jaskier was decidedly not her usual type, and he was kind. He was good with the kids. He talked too much. That much was evident but he’d already won over Ciri and Geralt had been impressed by how he’d handled the sensitive subject of Ciri’s home life, both that morning and in the letter.

That didn’t mean he liked him though.

It was just well-deserved respect.

He pictured Jaskier’s blinding smile and the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Geralt felt a warmth bubble up in his chest at the thought. He put the letter in his pocket and slumped down into a chair, resting his head on this the table.

“Fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo next chapter! Thank you so much for all the kind comments, both here and on tumblr :) From now on this will be updated on a Saturday! Schedule yay! 
> 
> I forgot to put a note on the last chapter so I'm saying it now. The rating is not for smut. The rating is because this fic deals with some fairly adult themes. When necessary I will put triggers in the notes for each chapter but it won't be too often. Mostly there's just a lot of thirsty by Jaskier for Geralt and hella amount of swearing, the characters also go to the pub a few times so mentions of alcohol there too. 
> 
> I should also add that I am neither a teacher nor a fireman... soooo... artistic license? Sorry if you work in either of these professions and I've butchered it worse than Blaviken :P 
> 
> Anyhoo! Next chapter. Enjoy!

Triss Merigold was bloody exhausted. The start of the school term was always the worst. She had barely had a break for the whole of the first two weeks. She flopped onto the sofa in the staffroom with a dramatic sigh. She loved the kids. She hated the parents. Already she’d been caught up on the phone with parents from the younger tutor forms just calling in to check up on their little darlings. No matter how many times she or the other teachers assured them that the school would notify them of any problems. The parents of the older kids were just as bad, blaming the teachers for their bad parenting skills and insisting that all their children should have been top of the class. 

“It’s not that bad Triss.” Istredd Gynvael from the Feainnewedd tutor group hummed. 

Istredd was the history teacher for the secondary school children and looked after one of the year ten forms. Overall he was well liked by most of the students, he wasn’t a strict teacher but Triss knew the students sometimes found his classes on the dull side. Not that Triss would ever tell him that. No, that little tidbit was between her and Yennefer alone, maybe Tissaia… 

She’d never tell the Headmaster, Stregobor, at least. 

“You don’t have to talk to the parents until parents’ evening, Is.” Triss moaned. “I have to deal with them all year round. They all think their angels can do no wrong.”

“We become teachers for the children. The parents are an unfortunate side effect.” Istredd sighed. 

There was a murmur of agreement from across the staffroom. 

“Sabrina’s mum called me a disgrace and failed artist last year.” Tissaia sighed as she turned a page in her book. “Apparently, they weren’t happy that I gave their daughter some constructive criticism on the use of lighting in her portraits. I’m not going to just throw compliments at every student. They’d never learn otherwise.” 

Tissaia de Vries was the school’s art teacher. She was also the form teacher of Forget-Me-Nots, one of the year six classes. She’d been the person to encourage Yennefer’s career as an artist ever since she’d been a student at the school. It had been because of Tissaia that Yennefer had started teaching in the first place.

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier perked up from where he was scribbling in his notebook. “I happen to like the parents of my class.” 

Triss rolled her eyes. Jaskier had dropped by her desk at reception at the end of the first day to ask for all the parents’ contact details so he could write his weekly emails. He’d been particularly interested in Ciri’s dad. Of course, Ciri was an interest to all the teachers at the school. She’d already been through hell and she was only six years old. The young girl didn’t seem all that bothered on the surface about her sudden change in circumstances. It was all a bit peculiar.

“That’s because you are a bit of a freak, Julian.” Mr Marx drawled from his corner of the staffroom. 

Jaskier’s face turned to thunder and slammed his notebook shut. 

Jaskier and Valdo Marx had known each other since before Jaskier started at the school. Their rivalry was legendary amongst the staff. No one was entirely sure of the details behind their feud. From what Triss could tell they had been at University together, both studying music at Oxenfurt. They had had some kind of falling out at some point. No one was really sure what about but last Solstice things had flared up when Valdo had had an affair with Jaskier’s partner. It was also Valdo that had told Stregobor and the rest of the staff that Jaskier’s birth name was Julian, something that her friend seemed to despise. Valdo refused to call Jaskier by his chosen name which never ceased to end in an argument between them. 

This time was no different as Jaskier coiled up like a spring, ready to pounce on the other teacher. 

“Call me that again one more time and I’m putting in a grievance. Wally.” Jaskier sneered. “Some of us actually care about the children we teach, and that means taking an interest in their home life and working out the best way to teach each child individually.”

“Name calling, Julian. How original.” Mr Marx smirked and patted Jaskier on the head as he moved to leave the room. 

“Oh fuck you!” Jaskier called after him. “He’s just bitter because all the year twos wish they were Buttercups and not Foxgloves.” He muttered. 

“He’s just bitter because he doesn’t get to talk to Mr Rivia at parents evening.” Triss sighed wistfully. “I would climb him like a tree.”

Jaskier’s scowled faded into a blissed out smile. “Oh he is dreamy isn’t he? Those eyes, like molten amber and that voice. Gods, it’s like sex personified.”

Triss giggled. “I knew it!”

Jaskier went wide eyed and slammed his hands over his mouth. “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

“Must you all be so dramatic?” Istredd called over Triss’s squeals of joy. “I’m trying to mark homework.”

“I think we’ve all earned a break, Istredd, if you want to mark in peace go back to your desk.” Tissaia hummed with eye roll. 

Istredd sighed. “Just keep it down, maybe try and remain professional.”

“Oh come on, Is. You’ve not seen him. Geralt Rivia is hot!” Triss nudged her friend. 

“Geralt? Yen’s ex?” Istredd put down his marking with a sudden scowl.

“No no no!” Jaskier whined. “Please tell me, I’m not competing with Yennefer Vengerberg!” 

“Don’t worry Jaskier, that ship has long sailed. Isn’t that right, Is?” Triss winked at the history teacher. Istredd’s fingers gripped tighter around his pen and he muttered something under his breath before burying his nose back into the sheets of paper in front of him. 

“Alright!” Jaskier called. “How many people here have had a crush on Yennefer Vengerberg? Hands up!” 

“We’re not your kids, Jaskier.” Tissaia rolled her eyes at the younger teacher’s antics. 

“True.” He admitted. “But humour me.”

Triss unashamedly put her hand up. Istredd was next. Chireadan was next and a handful of the other staff. Overall, just over half the staff in the room had their hands up. 

Jaskier was not one of them.

“Not your type, Jask? I thought everyone was your type?” Triss teased. 

Jaskier gasped and put his hand on his heart. “Triss! Just because I’m bisexual does not mean everyone is my type! She’s hot. I can admit that, but she fucking terrifies me.”

“And Geralt doesn’t?” Triss asked with a roll of her eyes, deciding not to point out that she was pansexual and already knew the myths of their sexualities were not true. “He could probably snap you like a twig.”

Jaskier beamed. “Oh I know!”

“Do we need to chaperone parents’ evening, Jaskier?” Tissaia asked cooly but her eyes were twinkling with amusement. 

“I’ll have you know I am a professional!” He gasped in mock outrage. “But yes absolutely. I have no idea how I managed to talk to him on the first day. Gods, he looked at me and I wanted to melt. I could write ballads about those eyes.” 

“Please don’t” Istredd sighed. “Geralt’s not that great.”

“Oh come on, Is, you just don’t like the fact he used to date Yennefer.”

“Yenna is better than him.” Istredd scowled. 

“Oh ho ho!” Jaskier laughed. “Are you going to finally ask her out then?”

“Shut up, Julian.” Istredd hissed. 

“Jaskier’s got a point, Is.” Triss gave Istredd a pointed look as Jaskier visibly bristled at the name. “But what about you and Geralt?”

Jaskier grumbled as he moved to retrieve his notebook. “Nothing. There’s nothing about me and Geralt. He’s a parent and I am a professional.” 

Istredd sighed loudly and gathered up his belongings and left the room. Tissaia chuckled as she sipped her tea and continued to read her book, but seemed to be content with the gossip that was rife in the staffroom. Other teachers were beginning to file out as the lunch break was ending. 

“But you fancy him.” Triss persisted as she checked the time on her phone. She didn’t need to be back at the front desk for another ten minutes and she didn’t have to worry about lesson planning like the other teachers. Her job did have some perks.

“So do you.” Jaskier shot back. “I am simply appreciating that Mr Rivia is a good-looking man but his daughter’s in my class and you know me, I fall in love with everyone I meet.”

“Except Yennefer.” Triss pointed out. 

Jaskier paled at the memory. “I have met Yennefer once and I genuinely thought I was going to die a terrible and painful death.”

“Oh it wasn’t that bad.” Triss giggled. 

Yennefer didn’t come back to school very often when she was in town but occasionally she would pick Triss up if they were going to the pub after school finished. Sometimes Yennefer would glide through the halls of her old haunt to reminisce over her days as a teacher, popping in to say hello to her old colleagues. The first time she’d visited after Jaskier had started teaching she’d visited her old classroom, the classroom that Jaskier now occupied. 

* * *

“What the fuck has happened to my door?” Yennefer glared at the bright yellow monstrosity that stood at the entrance to her old classroom. During Yennefer’s time at school the door had been painted lilac with elegant black silhouettes of flowers. 

Jaskier had rather a different approach. His door was so bright you almost needed sunglasses to look at it and his class had drawn their own buttercups to cover the door. Their teaching style was completely different too. 

Yennefer luckily had been in charge of an older class and mostly taught English Literature and Language to the Secondary school children. Yennefer was firm, and at times strict, she demanded respect from her students and many of them ended up in detention for missing out on homework or mucking about in class. Yennefer’s theory was that by messing about it was both a waste of her time and theirs. Yennefer was not a lover of wasted time. Every action she took was planned down to the letter. She knew what she wanted and how to get there. Her writing was very much the same. 

The scripts she wrote for the school plays were intricate and beautiful. Every line, every stage direction, every detail in the costumes had some hidden meaning that would be revealed later on in the play. As a director she was fierce and many of the older students were scared shitless after their time in the theatre but many also went on to attend drama schools. Yennefer could have become an award winning author, actor or director but that wasn’t where her passion lay. 

Yennefer Vengerberg loved art.

She always had ever since she’d studied at the school under Ms de Vries. She was a remarkably talented painter but her real skill was in her reviews and critiques of others art. Her analysis was unparalleled and her wit and sarcasm had drawn in a wide audience from all across the Art world. 

As soon as she’d been able to earn enough money from her work at a critic she’d flown from the school, much to the delight of her poor students. 

Jaskier on the other hand was a ray of sunshine. He was the sun to Yennefer’s moon. The kids adored him and almost everyone on the staff fancied him, not to mention the parents. His charm could have melted the heart of the ice queen herself and had to got him out of many a bad situation in the past, of course it had gotten him into just as many tight spots as well. Where Yennefer was unwaveringly focussed and unrelenting in her teaching, Jaskier was easily distracted and flitted from one topic to another like a whirlwind. He was kindhearted and nurturing to the children, playing his guitar almost every day and encouraging the kids to be the best they could be. He was entertaining and fun, and every child wanted to be in Buttercups. 

The layout of the building had changed a lot since Yennefer’s time and this section of the school now housed the primary school classes which was why Jaskier’s class was now in the old English room. 

Yennefer burst through the door, Triss trailing behind her. “Seriously! What the fuck?”

Jaskier jumped up from behind his desk, knocking his paper work all over the floor. “Bollocks! Shit! I mean… oh cock!” His travel mug tipped over as he scrambled after the the sheets of maths homework. Coffee poured everywhere, including down his teal floral shirt.

“Triss!” Yennefer snapped. “Why is there a child teaching in my classroom?” 

Triss sighed and walked over to help Jaskier save his marking from the coffee that was now leaking onto the floor. “Yen, this is Jaskier Pankratz. Our new year two teacher.” 

“What are you, twelve?” Yen asked raising her eyebrow at the young brunet. 

“I’m twenty-six!” Jaskier pouted. “I just have good genes and quite frankly a fabulous skincare routine. Did you want a copy?”

“Are you saying I look old?” Yennefer smirked at Jaskier who visibly started to panic. 

“Oh no. No no no. You look very radiant, ethereal! Eternally youthful. Please don’t kill me?” He fell backwards in a fluffy of maths homework. 

“Oh dear god.” Yennefer covered her face with her hand. “I thought this place couldn’t get any worse. Come on Triss, there’s a couple of bottles of wine with our names on it. See you around, Buttercup.” 

“See you on Monday, Jaskier!” Triss passed him a handful of sheets she had managed to salvage from the coffee. 

“Holy mother of…” Jaskier breathed as he stared after the hurricane that was Yennefer Vengerberg. 

* * *

Triss giggled at the memory. It had been just under three years ago, back when Yennefer and Geralt were still going through their off and on again stage. Jaskier had looked like a deer stuck in headlights in the fierce presence of Yennefer. Triss knew her friend could be quite intimidating but underneath it all was a loyal friend. A lot of her scary demeanour was just a mask to hide her insecurities. Yennefer wanted everything in life, a family, a career, fame, money, power. She wanted it all. 

But she was so terrified that she would never be enough, never deserve the things that she desired. Her relationship with Geralt hadn’t help. They burned brighter than the sun on their good days but their fights could have risen the Gods from their slumber. They pulled and pushed at each others souls, tearing each other apart. Triss had never met Geralt before Ciri had started at the school but she’d been there for Yennefer every time he broke her heart. 

“It absolutely was that bad.” Jaskier pouted. “I ruined my favourite shirt and made a complete fool of myself. She was looking at me with murder eyes!”

Triss patted his arm sympathetically. “If Yennefer wanted you dead, Jaskier, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

Jaskier staggered back and stomped over to pick up his guitar case and satchel. “Wow. Thanks Triss. That is… so comforting.” 

The bell chimed in the corridors, signalling the end of lunch. 

“Bollocks!” Jaskier cursed and scampered out of the room. “This is all your fault Triss Merigold.”

Triss smirked after him. “You love it, Buttercup!”

* * *

Triss pulled her thick wooden green coat around her. It was surprisingly cold for the end of September and she’d forgotten to bring gloves. She was on home time duty this week which mostly involved waiting in the playground with the kids for the parents who had yet to learn how to read a damn clock. She stuffed her hands in her pockets in a poor attempt to keep them warm. At least her hair was long and thick enough to keep her ears warm. She daydreamed happily about a warm bath and a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and whipped cream. 

“Ms Merigold?” A small voice broke through her daydream and she felt hands tugging at her coat. She looked down at Ciri who was staring back at her with tears in her eyes. “Where’s Coën?”

Triss glanced down at her watch and bite her tongue to stop herself from swearing. Ciri’s babysitter was over thirty minutes late. It was unheard of. He was normally waiting at the gates as soon as the bells rang to signify the end of the day, but today Ciri was the last kid left. 

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go inside and I’ll give Geralt a call.” Triss took the young girl’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Ciri clung on to her tightly and sniffed, wiping her eyes with her free hand. 

“What if he’s hurt?” Ciri asked quietly. 

“I’m sure he’ll be alright.” Triss reassured her, wishing that she could believe her own words. 

The pair of them hurried back inside and out of the cold. Triss let go of Ciri’s hand so she could search her desk for the file where she kept the emergency contact details. 

“Mr Jaskier!!” Ciri cried and flew off down the corridor. 

Triss looked up to see a very confused primary school teacher, guitar case slung haphazardly over his shoulder, struggling with an armful of small child. His leather satchel had dropped to the floor, books spilling out with a clatter.

“Ciri?” He stammered before he regained his composure and met Triss’s gaze with a worried look. 

“Coën’s in trouble!” Ciri cried. “He’s going to leave me! Everyone always leaves me!” 

“Oh Ciri.” Jaskier returned the girl’s clinging hug as she sobbed against his chest. “Ms Merigold is going to call your dad. We’ll figure this out together.”

Ciri sniffed loudly but nodded. “‘Kay.”

Triss found Geralt Rivia’s number with ease and dialled, praying that he would answer. She made a mental note to get Coën’s number too, he picked up Ciri most evenings during the week, depending on Geralt’s shift pattern, it was foolish that the young man hadn’t provided his contact details. 

The phone rang three times before Geralt’s gruff voice answered. 

“Geralt.” He grunted. 

“Geralt, Hi. This is Ms Merigold, from Ciri’s school.” Triss started. 

“Fuck. What’s happened?”

“Coën didn’t show at pick up today. Mr Pankratz is here with Ciri but she’s not taking it well.” Triss explained in a rush. She glanced over at Ciri and Jaskier. He’d sat down on the floor with her and seemed to be distracting her with a story. She still looked shaken but had calmed down and appeared to be completely captivated by the stories he was weaving. 

“I’m on my way.” 

Triss didn’t get a chance to reply as Geralt hung up the phone and the line went dead. She strolled over to Jaskier and Ciri, sitting down beside them. Jaskier glanced up at her without pausing his tale of knights and bards and princesses, and she nodded. 

Ciri wasn’t an idiot though. She cut Jaskier off mid-sentence. “Is my dad coming to pick me up?”

“Yeah. We’ll wait here until he arrives yeah?” Triss suggested. “No point staying in the cold.”

“Is Mr Jaskier staying?” Ciri asked with wide eyes. 

“As if I would leave you here!” Jaskier gasped and placed a hand over his heart, dramatic as always. “You are one of my Buttercups and we stick together!”

Jaskier pulled out his guitar whilst they waited for Geralt Rivia to arrive. Triss always enjoyed watching Jaskier play. She didn’t often get the chance. She knew he played for his class but her job kept her at her desk for the majority of the school day and they didn’t socialise that much outside of work. Occasionally, a handful of the teachers would head to the pub on a Friday evening but it wasn’t exactly the place to start playing acoustic guitar. Usually she’d only get to see him play quietly in the corner of the staffroom if he was working on a new song, or occasionally at a school event. 

This was different though, it was intimate like a lullaby being sang in the dead of night. Triss was completely enchanted by her friend and was really starting to wonder how he wasn’t a famous musician. She’d expected him to play something uplifting to distract the young girl but Jaskier seemed to have other ideas. He played a song about heartbreak that was so full of yearning that even Triss could feel the telltale prick of tears in her eyes, and it seemed to do the trick. Ciri cried too but it wasn’t the chaotic full-bodied sobs from before. Tears rolled down her freckled cheeks quietly and Triss suddenly understood. 

Jaskier was allowing the young girl to grieve. 

He was telling her, through his music, that it was ok to be scared. It was ok to have these feelings and to cry. The teachers had all been concerned that Ciri didn’t seem to have processed the trauma of her young life very well and here was Jaskier, drawing out those emotions that the young girl had kept tucked away. Coën not turning up had triggered something in Ciri, some fear of abandonment that no one had realised had developed.

Triss smiled as she wiped a tear from her eyes. The young teacher had more depth than she’d realised. She’d underestimated him, perhaps they all had. 

“Ciri!” Geralt came rushing through the doors, shattering the moment into a thousand shards of shimmering glass. 

The girl in question squealed and flung her tiny body towards Geralt. Jaskier almost dropped his guitar in surprise and even Triss jumped a little at the sudden rush of movement. 

“Dad!” Ciri cried as she wrapped her arms around her father. 

“I’m here, Princess. I’m here.” Geralt reassured her in a low voice. 

“Where’s Coën?” Ciri asked wide-eyed.

“Flu. He text me but it didn’t come through until I left work. I’m sorry.” Geralt explained as he kissed her hair. The silver-haired man then looked up to face Triss and Jaskier. “I am so sorry. What do I owe you?”

“Owe us?” Jaskier spluttered. “Geralt.” 

Jaskier said the other man’s name like a prayer, fervently and full of adoration.

“You would have been home over an hour ago if it weren’t for me.” Geralt insisted.

Triss noticed with barely hidden glee that Geralt was focussed almost completely on Jaskier. Triss was certain that she could have slipped away and back to her car, and Geralt wouldn’t have noticed. So it seemed that Jaskier’s little crush wasn’t quite an unrequited as he thought. 

“Geralt, it’s our job to ensure the children are safe. It was simply an unfortunate and completely unforeseen event. This is not your fault, nor is it Ciri’s or Coën’s. You owe us nothing.” Jaskier insisted. 

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed but continued to watch Jaskier intently as the younger man packed up his guitar. “Thank you.”

“That’s quite alright, Geralt. We’re happy to help, right Triss?” Jaskier blushed and looked towards her. 

Triss smirked. “Delighted, Mr Rivia, but try not to let it happen again, or I’ll have to inform Yennefer.” Triss teased. 

Geralt scowled but Ciri perked up at the name. “Auntie Yennefer?!” She squealed in delight.

“An old dear friend of mine, Ciri.” Triss nodded, throwing a smile at the young girl.

“Please don’t tell Yen.” Geralt groaned. 

“Yeah, Ms Merigold. No need to get Yennefer involved.” Jaskier mumbled, glancing down at his feet and then back up at Geralt. 

Geralt peered at the brunet. “I thought you only met her once.”

“A story for another time I think.” Jaskier blushed and sent her a warning glare. 

Triss rolled her eyes. “Ask Yen next time you call her.”

“Dad.” Ciri tugged Geralt’s arm. “I’m hungry.”

Geralt growled. “Right. Time to go. Thank you for keeping her safe, Ms Merigold. Jaskier.”

“Anytime!” Jaskier replied brightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ciri! See you, Geralt.”

“Have a good evening you two.” Triss waved them off. 

Once they’d left the building, Jaskier sank to his knees and groaned. 

“Alright there, Jaskier?” Triss teased with a laugh. 

“Fuck me, he’s gorgeous.” Jaskier buried his face in his hands. “This year is going to destroy me.”

“Wouldn’t you rather Geralt destroy you?” Triss giggled as she pulled him to his feet and linked their arms. 

“Triss Merigold!” Jaskier gasped. “No, no. You’re right. Oh good lord!” 

“Ask him out.” Triss suggested. 

Jaskier laughed weakly. “Not gonna happen. Stregobor would have me quartered.” 

“Coward.” 

“Absolutely! Come on, I think we deserve a drink! To the pub!” Jaskier announced loudly and together they finally left building for the evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Chapter two! Let me know what you think :) 
> 
> Next chapter is from the lovely Vesemir's POV. 
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) so come and yell at me there about stuff :) 
> 
> Until next time 
> 
> \- Yaz


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok dokey! Have some warnings for this chapter! Bear in mind this note is about to get a tad spoilery soooo just skip over it if you don't want the warnings. Also side note... I can't use the word tad any more without thinking of The Amazing Devil so... thanks Joey and Madeleine for that. 
> 
> Anyhoo warnings - Firstly Geralt does NOT have a happy childhood and there is a bit more background into the incident that caused the burns on his chest, including his parents' subsequent neglect when he was a kid. Secondly, Renfri and Stregobor. It's implied that Stregobor made Renfri's school life difficult. It's not explicitly stated why or how, but it could be read in a way that some people might find uncomfortable or triggering. So... yeah. Thirdly, mentions of domestic abuse in reference to a job that the fire crew attend. 
> 
> Again, none of this is in great detail but it's there so I think it needs mentioning. 
> 
> But other than that... enjoy the chapter!!

Vesemir grumbled under his breath as he scoured through the statistics from the last month. There had been a spike in calls recently, probably from the university students being back in town. The youths were reckless little shits who still hadn’t leant that cooking whilst being blind drunk was not a good idea, no matter how much you wanted chicken nuggets at three in the morning. There were also an unusual amount of false alarms or being called to incidents that really didn’t need the fire crew to attend. 

In short, they were fucking busy.

And the team was not as efficient as it could be. Vesemir pinched the bridge of his nose. They didn’t have the government funding to open recruitment for more full-time fighters right now right now but they were currently struggling to keep up with demand. They were relying on the on-call teams more and more with every quarter. He sighed as he looked through the stats again, focussing this time on each team member’s performance. 

“Oh Geralt.” Vesemir growled. “You can do better than that.”

He’d been too lenient on the man. He’d practically raised Geralt after his parents had fallen to drink after the accident that had left the younger man covered in burns. Vesemir had been a friend of the family for years. He’d never forget the terror that gripped him when the call had come in. The smoke billowing from the windows of the house that he’d spent so many evenings drinking wine over a good roast dinner. The ache in his heart when Visenna and Korin burst through the doors, soot covered and screaming for their son just as the fire engine had pulled up to the house. 

Vesemir had torn through the house, not caring about his own safety as the heat become unbearable even through his uniform. He’d found Geralt cowering under the bed, trapped by a fierce blaze in his room. His pyjama shirt had been burnt clean off and Vesemir could see, even through the smoke, that the young boy had some nasty burns scorched into his chest. He’d saved Geralt’s life that day but the boys parents had never recovered from the guilt.

And now history seemed to be repeating itself with young Ciri. Geralt was trying to his best with the young girl, and to be fair to Geralt, Ciri appeared to have accepted him as her new family with no problem. Vesemir had allowed Geralt to take parental leave over the school holidays when Ciri first arrived in his life as a permanent fixture, just like if Ciri had been a newborn baby to a new father. However, once summer had turned to autumn, Geralt returned to work full time. He insisted that he would be able to drop Ciri off at school in the mornings, which Vesemir had happily allowed. The plan was that when Geralt eventually worked on-call night shifts again then one of his team mates would stay at Geralt’s flat to keep an eye on Ciri, or Yennefer would stay if she was in town. Geralt also had a babysitter, Coën, for during the week so he didn’t have to worry about getting home in time to pick the girl up from school. 

All in all the young girl had been adopted into the fire family without hesitation. She had the entire wolf pack wrapped around her finger, even some of the cats had taken a shine to her from when Geralt had had to bring her to work on the weekends, and that rota was not known for their friendly attitude. They were a highly skilled group, made up mostly of volunteers who worked on-call shifts only, but their wit was scathing and the team banter bordered on inappropriate at times. Most of the grievances raised between the teams were against the cats. 

The wolf pack, Vesemir’s own team from when he went out on jobs were more familial. They were siblings. They were the largest team of full-time firefighters and the glue that held the station together. The wolves tended to work daytime shifts whilst being on-call over night should any incidents occur. They worked opposite to the bears who were rota’d on day shifts when the wolves had their days off and vice versa. The bears’ volunteer on-call support tended to be the griffins rota but it wasn’t always the way. 

Vesemir worked with all four teams as chief in the fire station, managing the rota and liaising with the supervisors for the other teams to ensure the whole operation ran smoothly. He just preferred to be in the office with the wolves. He had never quite overcome his bias towards his old team. 

But Geralt had been erratic recently. He’d had to leave early all last week when Coën went off sick with the flu, and he’d been later than expected in the mornings too. Whilst at work he seemed distracted and just really not on peak form. It was having a bad impact on the rest of the team and Vesemir knew it was time to confront the problem. 

He sighed. 

This was only going to make him seem like the bad guy which really he’d rather avoid but it came with the job unfortunately.

He stood up wearily, wincing at the twin clicks of his knees, and exited his office. 

“Geralt. Office. Now.” He barked.

“Oooh.” Lambert smirked. “What have you done now, White Wolf?” 

“Fuck off Lambert.” Geralt snapped. 

“Watch your mouth, Geralt.” Vesemir growled at the younger man. “Lambert, I want you and Eskel doing truck maintenance. We don’t have time to be sitting around on our backsides. Make sure all the gear is in the truck and nothing is damaged. I don’t want another trip to hospital because someone didn’t make sure their ventilator was working properly. Renfri, stay here and watch the phone. Geralt, with me.”

There was a groan from the room. 

“Can’t I help with the truck?” Renfri moaned. “I hate manning the phone!”

Vesemir sighed as he considered her request. “Fine. Eskel and Renfri on the truck. Lambert you’re on phones, but next time I expect you not to undermine me Shrike.” 

“Understood, Sir.” Renfri nodded and stuck her tongue out at Lambert. 

“But…”

“No buts Lambert. Go.” Vesemir clapped his hands. “We haven’t got all day!”

The team scattered as they went to do their assigned tasks and Geralt slunk into the office behind him. 

“Sit, Geralt.” Vesemir gestured to the small chair on the other side of his desk as he made himself comfortable in his own arm chair. 

Geralt squeezed himself into the chair but remained silent, preferring to wait for Vesemir to start the conversation.

“You need a better plan for Cirilla.” Vesemir admitted with a sigh. Geralt tensed up immediately but remained silent. “I know last week was hard, Geralt, what with Coën letting you down but there has got to be a backup plan.”

Geralt grunted and covered his face with his hands. “I know. I’ll do better. I can do better.”

Vesemir nodded. “I know, Geralt. We can figure it out but whatever we’re doing now isn’t working. You can see that right? When you’re at work I need you focused on the job otherwise you could be putting the pack in danger. I will not risk their lives like that. What’s going on, son?”

“She called me Dad the other week and, fuck, I’m not. I can’t.” Geralt groaned. 

“You’re worried you won’t be enough.” Vesemir guessed. 

“I was never meant to be her father, Vesemir. Duny and Pavetta… They weren’t supposed to die. Fuck, then Calanthe and Eist too. She’s been through so much already. How could I possibly be good enough? I thought maybe Yen. I could ask her to try again. She’s always wanted a kid.” Geralt was panicking. That much was clear. 

“Geralt. You know I adore Yennefer. She’s like family to me but don’t you think you’ve tried enough? You make each other miserable. That’s no way to raise a child, and a child won’t fix your relationship.” He sighed. 

“Fuck. I know. I know that!” Geralt snapped. “But I can’t. I can’t do this on my own. How am I supposed to raise a kid? My own father was a piece of shit!”

Vesemir raised an eyebrow at the younger man. “Family is more than blood, Geralt. You know the entire wolf pack has your back. If it gets that bad then you’ll bring her in more often. She can stay here in the office with me, I don’t mind.”

Geralt’s yellow eyes flashed wide as he processed Vesemir’s words. “You sure?”

“Well she can’t stay in the house on her own. What about the school? Are there any after school clubs she could join?” Vesemir suggested. 

Geralt shook her head. “No she’s too young for the clubs but she’s loving school. Her teacher, Jaskier, he’s really good with her.” 

To Vesemir’s surprise, Geralt blushed. 

“And this Jaskier, was he there when you went to pick her up last week?” Vesemir asked with a tilt of his head. 

Geralt nodded. “Yes. He played guitar for her until I arrived to keep her calm. Ciri hasn’t stopped telling me about it since. Every evening it’s ‘Mr Jaskier says this.’ and ‘Mr Jaskier told us that!’ She’s completely smitten.” 

“Hmm.” Vesemir said thoughtfully. 

“And I’m happy for her, really I am. I’m glad she’s enjoying school but I just can’t help thinking that she should have someone like Jaskier as her father not me. I’m no good with kids, Vesemir.” Geralt groaned and sunk further down into his too small chair. 

Vesemir laughed as he spotted the opportunity to tease the younger wolf. “You want Jaskier to be her father? Isn’t that a bit fast to be proposing to someone Geralt?”

“What?” Geralt’s head snapped up. “Fuck. No. That’s not. Fuck!” 

Geralt stood up abruptly and glared fiercely at Vesemir. A lesser man might have been intimidated by the younger man but Vesemir just laughed. “Where’s your sense of humour gone Geralt?” He chuckled. “Go on. Get out of here, but remember what I said. I need your head back in the game, Geralt and we’ll sit down another time and work out a back up strategy for Ciri’s childcare.” 

“Hmm.” Geralt growled and stalked out of the room. 

Vesemir smirked at the younger man as he hurried from the room and then turned back to his computer with a sigh. 

God he missed going out on calls. Paperwork was so fucking boring. 

* * *

Just over a week after his little heart to heart with Geralt, Vesemir had a plan. Geralt was talking about Ciri and her teacher more and more during shifts. Even the other wolves had now picked up on it and it had become an endless source of entertainment for the pack. Vesemir wasn’t quite sure whether Geralt had noticed his fixation with Jaskier Pankratz but he was sure that he would go mad if he had to hear anymore about him. So far he could tell you what Jaskier’s favourite colour was (yellow), how many instruments the man could play that Geralt knew of (guitar, piano, harp and strangely the lute?), the colour of his eyes (cornflower blue) and his Starbucks coffee order (Caramel latte with an extra shot of coffee and cinnamon on top). Vesemir wasn’t even sure he wanted to know how Geralt knew all of that about his daughter’s school teacher.

Geralt hadn’t been this smitten in a long time, not since Yennefer. The worst thing was that the man seemed to be completely oblivious, or in serious denial. Vesemir had known Geralt was not solely attracted to women for a long time. He’d been one of the first people Geralt had come out to during his teens. It had been a bit of a shock at first but it had been a learning experience. No one would look at Geralt and assume he was anything but straight. It was on that day that Vesemir really started to understand why you should never judge a book by its cover.

Geralt had been pretty calm about it. He’d strolled into Vesemir’s kitchen one morning with a tall brunet trailing behind him and announced that the boy was now his boyfriend and they were going out to see a film. 

It had taken Vesemir a while to realise that Geralt had been terrified about his reaction which was why the pair of them had scarpered so quickly. He’d managed to confront Geralt later on about the whole affair. It had been an awkward conversation. Neither of them were particularly verbose but Vesemir had assured the young lad that it didn’t matter who he was attracted to, Vesemir was his family and that was never going to change. They shared an awkward one armed hug and Geralt had gone up to the room Vesemir kept set up for him.

Over the years Geralt hadn’t had many long term relationships, Yennefer Vengerberg being the most prominent and long lasting, and as far as Vesemir was aware, Geralt tended to date women over other genders and it had been a long time since he’d seen the younger firefighter be so infatuated with another man. 

He was determined to be as supportive as he could and show Geralt that he was ok with his choice of partner regardless of their gender.

The first part of Vesemir’s plan was to talk to Stregobor from Ciri’s school. The station was getting busier and he was sure it was because people were, quite frankly, morons. Everyone in the damn town seemed to have forgotten basic fire safety. They needed to counteract that, and fast, before someone got hurt. The best way to do that was to engage with the community in an interactive event, starting with the schools. 

And if it gave him an excuse to meet the famous Mr Pankratz, well then, that was just a bonus. 

The only downside was having to face the demon headmaster himself. 

Stregobor was a fucking prick of a man. Not to mention he had unfortunate history with Renfri. Renfri had attended the school when she was younger and the headmaster had decided very early on that the young girl could do nothing right. She was constantly in detention and Stregobor had personally made it his mission to attack every bit of work the she did. Vesemir hadn’t known Renfri at the time but it was one of her favourite topics of conversation when the pack were in between calls. She’d had a troubled childhood but then so did everyone on the team. They were a band of misfits. Vesemir wouldn’t change it for the world. 

The team was busy with a call, a house fire on the outskirts of Lower Posada. The call had reported that the fire had started in the kitchen, as most fires did, however the household had reportedly had a history of domestic abuse and the local police department were attending the call with the Wolves to look for signs of arson. It was always messy when the police were involved with their calls. The police were used to taking point on cases but in arson jobs it was down to his team. It meant long hours for both teams and an emotionally challenging day for all involved. He’d sent an email round to the on-call firefighters to let them know that the whole Wolf pack were out. He’d believed it was only fair to keep them updated on situations like that. No one enjoyed getting their day disrupted out of the blue and if any other calls came in it would be down to the Cats to take the call. 

He looked up at the photograph that was hung on the wall. His own face stared back, wrinkle free and chestnut brown hair. He was in his uniform with his own team from when he’d first joined the fire brigade. They were all retired now, those that were still alive. He wondered what they would think of him, tucked safely behind his desk and buried under his paperwork. He’d always proudly announced that he would never become the chief for that very reason. His heart was behind the hose and up the ladders, he’d say, one of the best firefighters of his time. 

He chuckled his past naivety.

When his knees had begun to creak and he wasn’t able to keep up with the fitness required to be a full time firefighter he hadn’t had the heart to retire. He loved being a fireman and he loved helping Posada and the surrounding towns. Geralt had just been starting his own training as a fireman with Eskel at the time and Vesemir suddenly realised he now had the chance to pass on his knowledge and experience to a brand new generation of firefighters. So he’d taken the promotion and stayed on whilst his friends and colleagues had slowly retired from the job one by one. 

It didn’t mean he enjoyed paperwork anymore than his younger self had.

He sighed and dialled the number in his hands. 

“Good Afternoon, Dol Blathanna School, Ms Merigold speaking, How can I help?” The receptionist spoke politely. 

“Good Afternoon. My name is Vesemir. I’m calling from Morhen Fire Station. I was wondering if I could speak to the headmaster?” 

“Vesemir. Geralt Rivia’s boss?” Ms Merigold asked.

He was taken back by the question. “Yes.” He grunted, wondering where she was going with this. 

“Geralt has you listed as one of Ciri’s emergency contacts. Is there something wrong with her father?” Ms Merigold sounded concerned. 

“No. Nothing like that.” Vesemir tried to assure her. “I’m calling about trying to organise a day for my crew to come in and speak with the kids.”

“Would Mr Rivia be there?” The receptionist asked with a mischievous tone to her voice.

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate to be asking that, Ms Merigold.” Vesemir replied cautiously. 

But she just laughed. “Oh gods, no. I’m asking for a friend. I swear. No. Also we’d have to consider Ciri having her father coming to school.”

Vesemir hummed thoughtfully. “This friend wouldn’t happen to be Ciri’s teacher would it?” 

Ms Merigold cackled on the other end of the line. 

The plan it seems was going swimmingly. 

* * *

Vesemir strode out into the yard where the wolves were all running fitness drills. He appraised their form and technique for a few minutes before calling out. 

“Right! Gather round!” He shouted so that his voice could be heard even from the top of the tower where Eskel was currently hanging. “Careful on your dismount, Eskel. No showing off.” 

“Yes sir!” Eskel called back but when he was a few feet off the ground he pushed himself back and backflipped to the ground, landing with a grin. 

“Eskel.” Vesemir growled. “Once we’re done here I want you running laps.”

“Sorry Chief.” He chuckled but had the decency to bow his head. 

“Boys.” Renfri muttered under her breath as she joined Geralt and Lambert in the middle of the yard in front of Vesemir. 

“What’s up, Chief?” Lambert asked. “The alarms haven’t gone off.”

“Your observation skills astound me, Lambert.” Vesemir replied dryly.

“What? I’m just saying.” Lambert raised his hands in defence. 

Geralt hit Lambert gently in the arm. “Maybe if you shut up, we’ll find out.” 

“Enough.” Vesemir groaned. “I have an announcement. This time next week we have a special call to attend. I’ve already agreed that the cats will cover the station as part of their volunteer on-call hours. You will be required elsewhere.”

“Yeah! Field trip!” Eskel punched the air and cheered. The other three firefighters seemed less impressed. 

“I can’t leave Ciri overnight.” Geralt huffed and crossed his arms.

“You won’t have to.” Vesemir raised an eyebrow. “In fact, you’ll be seeing her during the day.”

Geralt frowned. “What?”

“We’re going to Dol Blathanna School for the day.” Vesemir smirked as Lambert, Geralt and Renfri all looked like they were being sent to their death. Eskel, give him his due, was the only one who still seemed happy with the news. 

“This is a joke?” Lambert asked. “Please, dearest Melitele, say this is a joke.” 

“No.” Renfri snarled. “I’m sorry Vesemir but absolutely not!”

Geralt remained silent. 

“I’m shit with children!” Lambert protested. “They get all grabby hands and they always want to play with the sirens. I can’t spend the whole day listening to sirens.” He groaned.

“The parents are worse.” Eskel pointed out.

“Fuck. The parents are worse!” Lambert moaned. “They all think we’re strippers! Vesemir please say this is a joke.”

Vesemir smirked. “Geralt? You’ve been quiet.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“To raise awareness for fire safety with the kids and their parents.” Vesemir replied. “You’ll all have noticed that there’s been an increase in calls recently.”

There was an affirmative grumble from the pack. 

“It’s a good idea.” Geralt admitted. 

“Traitor.” Lambert hissed. 

“He’s only saying that because Jaskier works at the school.” Renfri muttered. 

“This has nothing to do with Ciri’s teacher.” Geralt snapped. “I just think it will be a good preventative measure. I’m tired of being called out for stupid reasons.”

“I’m still not going to that hell hole.” Renfri glared fiercely at Vesemir. 

“I know, child.” Vesemir nodded. “That’s why I’m giving you the chance to stay behind with the cats. It would be good for the kids to see you at the school, we need more girls on the team, but I won’t force you back.”

“I’ll stay.” Renfri said. “Otherwise Stregobor will end up with the firehose around his neck.” 

Vesemir rolled his eyes at the venom in her voice. “Shrike, they’ll be no killing.” He admonished. 

“I was joking.” He mumbled. “Mostly.” 

“So it’s settled.” Vesemir nodded at his team. “Next Thursday we’ll be visiting Dol Blathanna School, with the exception of Renfri. No Lambert, you are not staying behind, and Geralt I expect to be introduced to young Ciri’s teacher. We’ve all heard so much about him.”

Geralt groaned and turned on his heels to head back into the station, leaving the rest of the wolf pack howling with laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! 
> 
> I love Papa Vesemir. Let that be known. I'm also going to reiterate I have no idea how fire Stations work beyond some research I've done so please allow some artistic license on the way Kaer Morhen Fire Station is run. 
> 
> Also I just started writing chapter nineteen of this fic soo wooooo... I also have two finished alternate meet stories ready to post once I've finished posting The Bard of Kaer Morhen. So that's exciting, but if there are any alternate meet prompts you guys want to see then you can always yell at me on tumblr or in the comments and I'll add them to my list! 
> 
> I also really want to write a Dandelion meets Jaskier post mountain fic... so look out for that. 
> 
> Basically these two are consuming my soul at the moment so yay! 
> 
> Next chapter is from Jaskier's POV (finally!!) His chapters are probably my favourite to write :) 
> 
> Til Next time!
> 
> \- Yaz


	4. Chapter 4

Jaskier woke up on Thursday to the sound of his alarm blaring in the back of the rather lovely dream he’d been having. At least it had started off as a lovely dream. He’d been rescued from his flat by a rather dashing, and topless, Geralt Rivia. Not all his dreams involved a burning flat and topless firemen but it was starting to become one of his regular ones. Geralt had just been about to kiss him senseless when the fire engine’s sirens had started going off and Geralt had dropped him in surprise. He’d fallen a good few feet before he’d hit the ground and sat up with a start in his bed. 

He cursed and flopped back onto his pillow. It was still dark outside and he’d stayed up far too late last night writing a new song. In his defence, he’d been hit with inspiration at the most stupid hour but what was else was he supposed to do? If he’d tried to go to sleep without figuring out the chords he would have been awake all fucking night. 

His alarm was still beeping incessantly at him. “Oh fuck off!” He groaned and knocked the clock off his bedside table and buried his face in his pillow. 

He was just about to fall back asleep when his phone started to ring. 

“Cock.” He moaned as the screen suddenly lit up the room. “Fucking. Bollocks.”

He peered at the screen and winced at the light burned his eyes. He squinted as he tried to make the letters out. He struggled to see without his glasses or contact lenses and wasn’t sure where his glasses were. They’d been on his face when he’d fallen asleep. “What the?”

It was Tissaia de Vries. 

Jaskier was not aware they were on friendly enough terms for early morning phone calls. He pawed at his phone to put it on speaker phone. “Tissaia…”

“Jaskier.”

“The fuck?” 

He heard an exasperated sigh from the other end of the line. “You text me last night, Jaskier. I do not want to know why you were awake at two in the morning but you left very strict instructions to call you. It’s the firefighter’s event today. Stregobor is expecting us in the school hall in an hour. Get up.” The phone clicked off. 

Jaskier frowned. He searched in the mess of sheets for his glasses before finding them on the floor. Luckily he hadn’t squished them in his sleep and they weren’t too crooked on his nose. He scrambled to unlock his phone, sure enough there was a text to the slightly terrifying art teacher begging her to wake him up in the morning. 

“Huh. Go past me.” He groaned and hauled himself out of bed.

He reluctantly went to shower. He probably didn’t have time but for no particular reason he really didn’t want to skimp on the personal hygiene today. He washed his hair in record time and then cursed as he stood in front of his wardrobe. Normally if he wanted to impress someone he’d go for tight skinny jeans and one of his favourite floral shirts but he couldn’t wear his jeans to work and they’d be outside all day so he’d probably freeze in the shirt. He stroke the fabric of his favourite shirt, the one with dandelions on, and then shut the cupboard. He moved to where he kept his jumpers. He had a rather nice turquoise one that really made his eyes pop. If he matched that with a nice pair of black trousers he would lot hot and work appropriate! 

He ran a towel through his hair to get the excess water out. He thought about styling it properly but again being outside for most of the day would mess it up anyway so he might as well go for the naturally fluffy look. Maybe Geralt would think he looked adorable and extra cuddly like this. He swapped his thick rimmed glasses for his contact lenses and he was almost ready to go. 

He glanced at his phone to check the time. 

“Oh shit!” He cursed and pulled on his jumper in a rush. He’d have to skip breakfast today if he wanted to make it to school in time. 

He rushed around the kitchen to swig some water before leaving for school, and not a moment too soon. He skidded into the school hall with one minute to spare. The rest of the teachers were already assembled. Tissaia rolled her eyes at him as he entered and he hid behind Triss from the headmaster’s glare. 

“Close call.” Triss hissed. 

“Yeah yeah. Laugh it up.” Jaskier snapped back. 

Stregobor began to run through the schedule of the day, letting them know which classes would be heading out to meet the firefighters at what time, the changes to the lunch rota, safety measures for if a fire alarm was to go off with so many people on site. Jaskier snorted a laugh at that, earning himself another steely glare from the headmaster, but it was worth it. There would be literal firefighters on site and Stregobor was mansplaining fire safety. He heard Triss giggling in front of him, even Istredd smirked as Jaskier caught his eye across the room. 

“Oh for god’s sake, Julian. Can’t you stay professional for just five minutes?” Valdo sighed loudly so that everyone could hear. Jaskier glared at his former university friend and he felt his nails dig into his palms, an impressive feat considering how short he kept them as a musician. 

“Well excuse me for actually having a sense of humour instead of being a soulless demon from beyond the void.” Jaskier hissed back. It wasn’t his best comeback but he hadn’t had coffee this morning and he was in serious need of a nap.

“Mr Pankratz. That is the sort of behaviour I would expect from your children, not one of my staff.” Stregobor snarled from the front of the room. 

“Sorry, sir.” Jaskier grumbled. “Won’t happen again.”

In his head Jaskier was already composing a brilliant scathing song that would highlight all of Valdo’s numerous flaws in vivid detail. It was a pity there weren’t any good rhymes for his name. He could make do with comparing the other teacher to mouldy farts. It wasn’t grammy winning but it made a point. Perhaps his bandmate, Priscilla, could help him find some better rhymes. It had been a while since they’d gotten together in the recording studio and taking down Valdo Marx was something they would both delight in. It had made such great fodder for their second album. He was sure he still had some bitter songs left in him about the traitorous failure of a teacher. 

The doors crashed open near the end of Stregobor’s monotonous dribble, and Jaskier almost swooned. 

In the doorway were four firefighters, all built like a house and looking absolutely delicious in their uniforms. It was better than Jaskier could have imagined, and dear god had he imagined. It was a pity that they had opted to wear shirts but beggars can’t be choosers. Despite their similar build, the four firefighters were all vastly different in looks. The eldest had silver hair, not too dissimilar to Geralt but a few inches shorter and he was stockier than his younger colleagues. Even from a distance, Jaskier could see the webbing of burns over his hands. The thing that really stood out were his eyes. They were a dark chocolate brown but they had such depths. If Jaskier didn’t know better he would have said the man was an immortal. His eyes were ancient and wise. He would bet that the firefighter had some incredible stories to tell. 

The next firefighter had a brilliant shock of red hair on his head that tumbled over his ears in luscious curls. Jaskier had some serious hair envy. He wondered whether it still looked so naturally tousled even after wearing his helmet. He was also sporting a matching bushy ginger beard. The man almost looked like a phoenix which was ironic considering his job. 

The last new addition had a very similar bone structure to Mr Phoenix, both had startling green eyes to match. Jaskier supposed they must be related in some way. Instead of ginger, he had a dusty sandy blond hair. It was messy but shorter than the rest of the crew, falling just below his ears. What drew Jaskier’s attention was the jagged scar across his face. It was messy and Jaskier couldn’t but imagine what could have caused such a nasty scar. His heart went out to the fireman. Jaskier didn’t know the man but he knew that the man did not deserve whatever pain was in his past. 

And then there was Geralt. 

And to the gods was he beautiful. 

Of course, all the firefighter’s were beautiful in their own way. Jaskier could find beauty in everyone as long as their heart was kind, but Geralt just was wow. Jaskier had never had a type before but his type was Geralt now. 

Oh Freya was he smitten or what?

He should probably try and rein in his crush slightly. It was really getting out of control. He tore his eyes away from the man and back to the tyrannical monster that was the headmaster. 

“Gentleman. Welcome.” Stregobor smiled sweetly at the new arrivals. “Vesemir?”

The eldest firefighter nodded. “That would be me. We spoke on the phone.”

Stregobor’s smiled didn’t reach his eyes, and Jaskier thought he looked downright creepy. He turned his attention back to his latest infatuation. 

But Geralt was already looking him with those gorgeous amber eyes. A strand of silver hair had escaped the half up do that he always wore and was falling in front of his face. Jaskier so wanted to tuck the loose strand behind Geralt’s ear, maybe braid his hair so it stayed back properly. He’d look so handsome with a braid and Jaskier could only imagine how soft his hair would feel between his fingers. 

Jaskier mentally berating himself for staring and gave Geralt, no, Ciri’s father, a wave. Geralt nodded almost imperceptibly and Jaskier only noticed the tiny smile because his gaze was drawn to Geralt’s lips as if he were a siren singing the sweetest melody. 

“As you may know, Mr Rivia’s daughter Ciri” Stregobor was saying. Jaskier snapped himself out of his Geralt fuelled daze to focus back on the headmaster when he heard Ciri’s name. “is in the Buttercups with Mr Pankratz. Julian, you will need to look after Ciri today as the other children will be able to spend time with their parents or guardians.”

Geralt cleared his throat. “Actually, I’ve made arrangements for my friend to look after Ciri today. There’s no need to bother Jaskier with extra duties.” 

Jaskier felt a little weak at the way Geralt said his name. It wasn’t anything particularly special but Geralt’s naturally gravelling voice just made him feel things that really weren’t appropriate for the workplace, but he still managed to force his own voice to function like a normal human being who wasn’t dying of thirst. “It’s no bother, Geralt. I assure you.” It came out a little flirtier than he intended but honestly who could blame him. 

“Hmm. Thank you, Jaskier.” Geralt’s eyes soften and Jaskier felt like his heart was going to burst out of its chest. 

He blushed furiously. “No problem, Geralt.”

“Get a room.” Triss whispered back at him. 

“Oh shush!” Jaskier snapped back. 

It was going to be a long day for his poor bisexual heart. 

* * *

Jaskier had rounded up all his kids in the classroom. The parents were having an introductory tea and coffee session with Vesemir and Stregobor. Vesemir was doing a presentation on the rising statistics that his team had been facing over the month or so, and the younger children had been asked to stay with their teachers in case they found some of the images and stories too distressing. 

Jaskier’s class had spent the beginning of the morning drawing their best attempts at firefighters. Most of the children had drawn the four men in uniform with their hats and long hoses. Jaskier had plastered a wide smile on his face as he’d praised the drawings, even if a few of them looked as if they’d never seen a firefighter in their life. Ciri had drawn her father, but not in uniform. Ciri’s Geralt was wearing all black and was stood next to some kind of large dog. Geralt holding Ciri’s hand in the picture and Ciri beamed as she showed off her artwork. 

“Wonderful Ciri!” Jaskier clapped his hands. “Who’s this?” He pointed to the dog creature. 

“Roach!” She giggled.

“Roach? That’s… a good name?” He lied. 

“All of Dad’s horses have been called Roach!” Ciri explained. “We always go to the stables at the weekend. Dad even lets me ride her as long as he’s holding onto the reins.” 

Jaskier blinked trying to process this new information. The image of Geralt riding a horse was now seared into his brain. Shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow and hair flying in the wind as he gripped the animal between his thighs. 

Fuck…

Jaskier really needed to get laid. 

This infatuation with Ciri’s father was getting out of hand. 

“Wow Ciri! That’s really cool. You should bring some photographs in for next show and tell. I’m sure the others would love to see Roach.” He replied to the young girl. 

The bell rang and Jaskier took a deep breath. It was their time to head outside to the truck. A perfect time to start working on getting over his crush on Geralt Rivia. He was Ciri’s teacher. It wouldn’t be appropriate to start flirting with her father in front of the whole class. 

Jaskier clapped his hands with a stamp of his foot to get the class’s attention. “Listen up, Buttercups!” He called, signing the words as he spoke. The class quickly quietened down but he could still feel the excitement buzzing around the room. “We’re going to head outside now! Nobody is to run off with their parents without telling me first. I know you’ll be excited to see them but I just need to know where you are so I know you’re safe, ok?”

“Yes, Mr Jaskier” The class echoed back. 

“Excellent. Now the fire engine is all very exciting. Trust me, I can’t wait to have a look! But do we remember the rules?” He looked around expectantly. 

A few of the kids nodded. 

“Dara?” He asked. 

_“Don’t touch unless the fireman says we can.”_ Dara replied dutifully. Jaskier hummed as he focussed, carefully watching the young kids hands. He’d done a course in sign language over summer when he’d been told about Dara being in his class but he wasn’t fluent yet and he still missed words. Dara’s interpreter was a great help but he was still determined to be able to communicate with the young boy on his own by the end of the term. Luckily the internet was full of really useful tutorials to assist him in his quest. 

“Yes, good! Anyone else?” Jaskier beamed. “Marilka?”

“We can’t keep asking them to put the sirens on.” She sulked. 

“Now that’s an important one! We have to protect those eardrums! Otherwise I might as well forget about my guitar.” Jaskier laughed when all the children protested at that. “Last one!”

The kids frowned as they thought about it. Jaskier took pity on them. 

“No running off without telling me.” He reminded them. “Are we ready?” He asked brightly and pretended to cover his ears as the class all screamed back a yes. “Come on then!” He grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

* * *

Jaskier was enjoying a blissfully childfree hour. All his children had been passed back over to their parents or guardians and were crowding round different parts of the schoolyard. Vesemir was running drills, adjusted for the children, to give them an idea of what training the firefighters went through on a daily basis. Two other firefighters, Lambert and Eskel, were helping the children hold on to the hose as they took turned at pretending to put out a blaze. The children were squealing excitedly as the adults took photographs. Geralt was in charge of the fire engine. He was calm with the kids and seemed to have endless patience for their requests to put the lights and sirens on. Jaskier leaned on the wall as he watched Geralt point to the buttons on the fire engine’s dashboard. Marilka was fidgeting happily next to him, an oversized helmet almost covering her eyes. 

Jaskier smiled fondly at the pair of them. He hadn’t interacted much with Geralt, outside of his dreams of course, but he seemed to be a man of very little words, preferring actions to long speeches. He always thanked Jaskier for his weekly update email or letter if he was feeling extravagant, and after the unfortunate babysitter incident Geralt had insisted on buying him a coffee as a thank you. Jaskier had tried to protest but reluctantly sent his favourite coffee order along with his weekly report. The next time Jaskier had been on playground duty, Geralt had walked up to him in the playground and pressed a large caramel latte into his hands. It even had a sprinkle of cinnamon on the top. Jaskier would have blamed his flushed face on the cold weather if Geralt had asked but thankfully the other man didn’t seem to notice.

The only thing Jaskier knew for certain about Geralt, was that he completely adored his daughter. Jaskier mused that it was probably appropriate that Ciri was the only thing they ever really discussed but he wanted to know more. What was Geralt’s coffee order? Did he always wear black when he wasn’t wearing his uniform? Were his eyes really that colour or was he secretly wearing contacts? What was his favourite type of food? Did he have any favourite bands? Would he like to hear Jaskier’s music? Jaskier so desperately hoped Geralt would like that. 

He sighed dramatically. 

He was being ridiculous. He was pining after a man he didn’t even know. It was so shallow of him to yearn over the man based purely on his looks. Well, not purely. Jaskier was certain the man had a heart of gold. He was raising Ciri after all and the girl was an absolute delight! Jaskier didn’t choose favourites but if he did Ciri would certainly be his favourite student. She just had a way of making everyone she met fall under a charm. She wouldn’t love Geralt if the man was a complete dick. 

Maybe Jaskier was putting him on a pedestal? But he didn’t seriously have a chance with the man so was there any harm in that? He just needed to keeping his thirsting under control when Geralt was close by. It couldn’t be that hard? Could it?

Geralt’s amber eyes looked up and caught Jaskier staring. Jaskier chuckled breathlessly and gave him a little wave. Geralt tilted his head with a small smile as if to beckon him. Jaskier narrowed his eyes suspiciously but went over to see what the problem was. 

“Geralt?” He asked as he reached the bright red truck. Marilka was still pretending to drive the engine to some emergency or whatever, gripping the steering wheel tight and making her own siren noises.

“Jaskier. I umm. It’s not from the coffee shop and I didn’t have any caramel or cinnamon but… here.” Geralt pulled out a thermos from the door of the fire engine. “Figured it might be a long day for the teachers.”

Jaskier stared dumbly at the flask in Geralt’s hand. “You didn’t need to do that.” He stammered. 

“I know.” Geralt shrugged. “It was Ciri’s idea.”

Jaskier smiled brightly. “She’s a good kid, Geralt. You should be proud.”

“Mr Rivia!” Marilka shouted to get the fireman’s attention. “Can girls be firemen too? I wanna be a fireman!”

“Yes.” Geralt pulled out a photograph from the glovebox and pointed to a girl who was laughing and had her arm around Geralt’s shoulder. “This is Renfri. She’s part of our team. She had to stay behind today. She’s probably the best of all of us.” 

Jaskier felt his heart ache as Geralt’s eyes softened when he spoke about Renfri. He was such an idiot. The coffee was Ciri’s idea, it had probably been Ciri’s idea the first time too. Geralt probably didn’t even like men, and on top of that his ex was Yennefer Vengerberg. Jaskier was nothing compared to her. Just a silly musical primary school teacher. Renfri looked fucking beautiful too. 

But there wasn’t time for his personal crisis. He was a teacher and he had a job. “Even if Renfri wasn’t part of the team, that shouldn’t stop you wanting to follow your dream, little Buttercup.” 

Geralt hummed in agreement and then propped the photograph up on the dashboard. Marilka’s father appeared moments later and dragged his daughter from the truck to allow the other kids to have a chance. Geralt nodded a goodbye at the child and then patted the vacated seat.

Jaskier grinned and slid into the seat. “I’m not a child, Geralt.”

“Fire safety is for adults too.” Geralt said seriously but when Jaskier looked at his face he could see the way Geralt’s eyes were twinkling with amusement. 

“Oh screw you.” He muttered under his breath. 

“You got lunch?” Geralt asked as he pulled out a lunch box. Jaskier almost squealed when he noticed it was a My Little Pony lunchbox. Sure it wasn’t the Applejack that Jaskier knew and loved, he’d never forgive them for changing the design, but Geralt Rivia had an Applejack lunchbox! Jaskier’s day was made!

Jaskier shook his head. “I’ll eat with the kids when we go back inside.” 

“I am proud.” Geralt said quietly as he unwrapped his sandwich. Jaskier’s stomach rumbled and he suddenly remembered he’d skipped breakfast. Geralt raised his eyebrows at Jaskier before tossing him the apple from his lunchbox. Jaskier failed to catch it and it landed in his lap. 

He smiled brightly at the fireman. “Thanks.”

“She’s so strong.” Geralt continued without missing a beat. “She’s been through more than any child should, more than any person.”

“She’s coping alright.” 

“Yeah, but that’s got nothing to do with me.” Geralt sighed. “I’m just gonna fuck it up. You’re good with the kids. Ciri adores you. I wish.” Geralt paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wish I knew how you did it.”

Jaskier gaped at the fireman. “Geralt.” He breathed shakily. “You’re amazing with children.”

“No.”

“Yes!” Jaskier protested. 

“Hmm. How would you even know?” Geralt spat out bitterly but made no move to evict Jaskier from the truck.

“Call it instinct. That and I was watching you talk to my kids.” Jaskier admitted. “They loved you.”

“It’s just the uniform. Makes people trust you.” Geralt shook his head. 

“Geralt Rivia!” Jaskier gasped in outrage. “Enough of your self-loathing. What would you say to Ciri if she started talking that way?”

“Hmm.” Geralt growled. 

“Precisely. So, have a little confidence. You didn’t choose to be her father but you’re doing a bloody brilliant job from what I can see.” Jaskier insisted. “We’re trained to spot potential home problems you know, and given the circumstances I think you’re doing just fine.”

They fell into silence whilst Geralt ate his sandwich. Jaskier was afraid to say anymore in case he accidentally revealed just how much he’d been watching Geralt whenever the man visited the school, or how much he treasured every email and look that he received from the man. He knew he had a habit of talking to much, to be honest it was why he was good at teaching. Instead he began to hum under his breath, the song he’d been composing the night before. Geralt didn’t seem to mind so he sang a little louder, experimenting with lyrics. He’d thought of a few but nothing seemed to fit. 

“It wasn’t Ciri’s idea.” Geralt eventually said as tucked his lunchbox back into his bag under his seat. 

“What?” Jaskier frown at the non-sequitur. 

“The coffee.” Geralt nodded and the pushed open his door and jumped out, leaving Jaskier very confused and alone in the truck.

He glanced down at the flask in his hand and opened the lid. He inhaled the smell of coffee with a moan. It was strong coffee, Geralt really knew the way to his heart. He took a tentative sip, expecting it to be bitter without the caramel syrup he so adored but to his surprise it was sweet and creamy just like his usual order. It wasn’t caramel but Geralt must have dumped a shit ton of sugar in the thermos to compensate. Jaskier hummed happily as he took another sip. Oh it was definitely strong yet milky and sweet. The only way to drink coffee in Jaskier’s humble opinion. 

He laughed to himself, alone in the fire engine. How was he ever going to get over his infatuation with Ciri’s father if he kept being so thoughtful?

Jaskier was well and truly fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so couple of things... I was going for a pop culture reference free modern AU, you'll notice they still talk about Melitele and Freya instead of God and other christian stuff because I didn't want this to reflect any particular belief system. I accidentally made Yen an ex English teacher when England doesn't exist but... ooops. Can't be bothered to change it. BUT I refused to take out the My Little Pony reference in this chapter because Geralt really really needed that lunchbox... I think My Little Pony becomes Ciri's favourite cartoon as a result but yeah. 
> 
> That's some trivia for you :P 
> 
> Anyhooooo... Hope you liked it. :D I've had some amazing feedback on this and my other witcher fics which has naturally only motivated me to write more so there's a lot more of these two dorks in the pipeline. 
> 
> Next chapter... Yennefer's POV! (Geralt and Jaskier's POV get more frequent as the plot and their relationship develops) 
> 
> \- Yaz


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is from Yen's POV :) There's some Is/Yen moments in this chapter and references to past Geralt/Yen but you know mostly just background stuff.... just in case anyone doesn't like those ships?

Yennefer strode into the playground of her old school as if she owned the place. She barely gave the other adults a second glance. She was here for Ciri, and only Ciri. Geralt had practically begged her to come back for the day so that she could be with his ward whilst he was working for the day at Dol Blathanna School. He’d even cashed it in as a favour much to Yennefer’s delight. Of course, she’d never admit to the firefighter that she was going to say yes the first time he’d asked but it was his own fault for making such a big deal about it. 

She remembered events like this one from back when she was teaching, and even from her own years as a student at the school. All the parents and guardians were always invited. There were school fates, charity auctions, religious services, all sorts of events that happened throughout the school year. 

And Yennefer’s parents had never turned up. 

Every time she’d stare longingly at the door begging some higher power for them to walk in and wrap her up in their arms, just like all her classmate’s parents did. Every time she was brokenhearted and left to stay with the teacher. Normally it was her form tutor but other times she was passed along to another teacher with another abandoned child. 

It had turned her heart to stone. 

She almost had to thank her parents for it. Their lack of love and affection had driven Yennefer to become the best, to become someone that they could be proud of, that they could love. It had fed her motivation and ambition that had served her so well and given her the edge to get ahead in the art world. As a critic she wasn’t afraid of saying her mind, even if it meant hurting the struggling artists. If their work wasn’t good enough then they needed to know. It wasn’t nothing compared to what she’d felt on a daily basis and would only help them succeed in the long run. Her sarcastic and witty vlogs had garnered a large following due to her brutal honesty with just the right balance of dry humour. 

When she painted she took her pain and longing and fears, and transformed them into streaks of paint across the canvas until it was a perfect depiction of how she felt in that precise moment. Her artwork was chaotic at first glance but if one were to look closer they would see that each and every stroke of the brush was precisely where she intended it to be, forming part of a larger story and fitting perfectly like clockwork. There was never too much, nor too little. 

She was in total control of the chaos. 

People that thought otherwise were fools and tragically underestimated her talent. 

The idiots. 

Yes. Her parents’ neglect had served her well but she be damned if Ciri would be subjected to the same fate. The little girl’s kindness shone like a flame in the darkness of Yennefer’s world and she would fight to her dying breath to ensure that it wouldn’t be snuffed out. 

So Yennefer had made up her mind the moment the request left Geralt’s lips. She’d booked a flight back into town before he’d finished begging and she was half way packed before she’d voiced her agreement. She didn’t particularly enjoy returning to the school but there was a strange kick of nostalgia that hit her in the gut every time she passed through the school gates. It helped that most of the faculty were still the same as when she had left. It was always good to see Tissaia again and she loved to catch up with Triss. They could not speak to each other for months on end but pick up again from where they left off as if they’d never spent a day apart. Everyone deserved a friend like Triss Merigold. 

Things were still awkward with Istredd. They’d been childhood sweethearts before she’d ever met Geralt Rivia but they’d had an explosive falling out in her last year of University. The things he had said still haunted her and the betrayal still cut into her heart. After that she’d fallen into the arms of Geralt Rivia, or rather she lured him to her bed and how willingly he had stayed. Still her choice of partner had once again failed her and it ended even worse than it had with Istredd. Her and Geralt were too similar in temperament. Too stubborn and hot headed. Whilst they had loved each other, it hadn’t been a happy relationship. Finally choosing to remain as friends had been the best decision they had made but it left her heart vulnerable once more. She knew that Istredd still adored her. She was flattered by the attention but it kept bringing up all those old feelings from college. What if Istredd was the chance that she missed? 

She scowled and shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it. Today was about Ciri. It had been a good few months since she last saw the girl, just after she’d moved in with Geralt full-time. She glanced around the school ground for her ashen-haired ward. Young children were everywhere, screaming excitably. She barely flinched when the fire engine in the middle of the yard lit up in vibrant blue and wailed loudly. 

She really hated other people’s children. 

Ciri was the exception. Ciri was sort of like her own surrogate daughter. She had adored the young girl even before the accidents that had left her without a family. 

Finally she spotted the girl in a gaggle of kids, surrounding a teacher that barely looked like he’d graduated university. There were other parents nearby talking to their children and waving to the childlike teacher. Yennefer glided over to relieve him of Ciri. It was only once she got closer that she recognised him as the idiot that had now taken over her classroom. 

“Buttercup.” She greeted him cooly. 

“Ah. Yennefer Vengerberg.” He blushed and tugged at his hair nervously. 

“Auntie Yen!” Ciri cried happily and flung her small arms around Yennefer’s waist. She winced as the gesture sent shock waves of pain down her spine but she was used to it and she hid it well. Ciri didn’t notice a thing. 

“Hello darling.” She hugged Ciri back gently. “Did Geralt not tell you I was coming?”

“Of course not! He always forgets to tell me the important things. He’s too busy worrying about vegetables and what Mr Jaskier says in his emails.” Ciri pouted and crossed her arms dramatically in front of her body. 

“And what does Mr Jaskier say in his emails to Geralt?” Yennefer raised an eyebrow at the teacher who flushed even darker. 

“Just weekly reports on the class’s progress.” He mumbled. “What we’re learning, if there’s anything we’re struggling with. That sort of thing.” 

“Well those things are important too, sweetie.” Yennefer told Ciri. “He probably just wanted my visit to be a surprise. I’ll talk to him about it later,” She turned to Jaskier. “I’m taking Ciri.”

Jaskier nodded. “Geralt said he’d asked a friend to look after her.”

“I wasn’t asking, Buttercup.” Yennefer smirked. “You know I almost didn’t recognise you without the coffee stains.” 

Jaskier gaped. “You. What? Well. I. I will answer that later in a strongly worded email.” He spluttered. 

Yennefer laughed knowing there wasn’t anything the primary teacher could do or say in front of his class. “Come along, Princess.” 

* * *

Ciri was running circles around the other children in Vesemir’s drills. Of course the girl had an unfair advantage, namely that she’d been running Vesemir’s drills since she could walk, but it was still immensely satisfying to watch the envy on the faces of the other parents. Ciri knew she was good too, if the satisfied smirk was anything to go by. Vesemir wasn’t going easy on her though. He’d subtlety increased the difficulty of Ciri’s drills, still suitable for a six year old but not quite as easy as her classmates. 

Yennefer crossed her arms and let her gaze drift across the playground as she leant against the wall to ease the growing pain in her back. Eskel and Lambert were busy trying to stabilise the firehose. Apparently, Eskel had turned it up a bit too much for the two kids that were holding it and it was now spraying all the parents nearby. Although knowing Eskel he’d probably planned it with the kids as a prank on their parents. Lambert was yelling but thankfully he was managing not to swear like a sailor. Yennefer supposed she should probably make sure she says hello to Geralt’s colleagues. They had after all once treated her like family. Sure, it had been the sort of family that you begrudgingly accept, but it had been family nonetheless. 

She turned her gaze to the fire engine. It had gone silent for the last ten minutes or so. She could see a glimpse of Geralt’s bright snowy hair through the window so he was still in there. She caught Vesemir’s eyes and tilted her head towards the truck. Vesemir smiled and nodded so she took the chance to go say hello to her old friend. She was about to knock on the window of the truck when she noticed that Geralt was not alone in the vehicle. 

Ciri’s teacher was sat beside Geralt, clutching a thermos flask that he definitely hadn’t had earlier in the day. From where she was standing Yennefer could just about make out the sound of Jaskier singing, and Geralt didn’t seem to be remotely bothered by it. 

Yennefer froze.

Geralt hated it when people chatted unnecessarily. He was a lover of silence and only spoke when he had something worth saying. He didn’t believe in filling silence with mindless natter, and yet here he was willingly spending his lunch break with the talkative feral little shit that was Ciri’s teacher. 

She backed away from the fire engine towards Vesemir’s group again, pondering over what she’d just seen. Geralt hadn’t mentioned Jaskier before as anything more than Ciri’s teacher. In their regular phone calls, Geralt often spoke about Ciri’s time at school and all the things she’d learnt from the youthful teacher but Yennefer had assumed that it was just Geralt being proud of his daughter but now she was wondering whether there was another reason too. One that maybe even Geralt hadn’t noticed. 

“Ciri!” She called to her ward.

The ashen-haired girl looked up. Her eyes were sparkling from the exertion and her fringe stuck to her forehead with sweat.

“Come on. Time to move on. Let the others have a chance.” Yennefer said with a smile. 

“Ok!” Ciri trilled, still slightly out of breath. “See ya, Uncle Vesemir!” 

“Goodbye, little sparrow.” The older fireman nodded. 

“Now, Princess. What can you tell me about Mr Jaskier?” Yennefer said as she took the young girl’s hand and they began to walk towards Eskel and Lambert. Yennefer pulled an umbrella from her bag as they approached. She didn’t fancy being caught up in Eskel’s tricks. 

“Mr Jaskier?” Ciri asked sweetly. 

“Yes. Is he a good teacher? My princess deserves only the best.” Yennefer squeezed her hand. 

“Mr Jaskier is the best!” She giggled happily. “He always plays funny songs in the morning and he forgets to give us homework when it’s one of our birthdays! He even helped me with my numbers when I couldn’t get it.”

“Your numbers?” 

“Yeah. I didn’t understand but Mr Jaskier said it didn’t matter that I didn’t understand because we all learn differently and we just need to find the way that suits us!” Ciri frowned as she spoke, clearly trying to remember what Jaskier had said word for word. 

Yennefer tilted her head. So the buttercup wasn’t as disastrous as he first appeared. Ciri clearly loved him at any rate. “He’s not wrong.” She admitted. “Regrettably.” She added under her breath so that Ciri couldn’t hear her. 

“Yeah! So then we made a song together so I could remember properly! Dad thought it was a great idea.” Ciri grinned. 

Yennefer smirked. “Oh really? So your father likes Mr Jaskier’s songs.”

Ciri nodded enthusiastically. “He got annoyed at first because I was singing them a lot around the house after school, especially my numbers song but after I said Mr Jaskier wrote them he didn’t seem to care after that. I think Dad still feels bad because he didn’t see Coën’s text when he got sick and I got left at school on my own for ages!”

“He did what?” Yennefer snapped and then took a deep breath. “On your own?” She said more softly, feeling bad for taking her anger out on Ciri. 

Ciri’s eyes went wide and she covered her mouth. “Oh no! I wasn’t supposed to tell you! Geralt and Mr Jaskier made me promise I wouldn’t tell you, even though Ms Merigold said she’d tell you!”

“Ciri. Were you on your own at the school?” Yennefer asked again. 

“Oh no. Mr Jaskier and Ms Merigold looked after me until Dad got to the school, but Dad tried to say he owed them for staying longer, but Mr Jaskier refused because he didn’t mind staying with me cos we’re buttercups and buttercups stay together!” Ciri laughed proudly. 

“Mhmm. And then what happened?” Yennefer pressed. 

“Well then Dad still felt bad because he thought Mr Jaskier and Ms Merigold had to stay forever at school with me. So he brought Mr Jaskier coffee next time he was in the playground with us in the mornings.” Ciri beamed happily. 

“Interesting. What about Ms Merigold?” Yennefer asked innocently. 

Ciri scrunched up her nose as she thought about it carefully. “No. Ms Merigold didn’t get coffee but Dad did come in to say thank you for like… a whole week!” 

“Oh really?” Yennefer smirked knowingly. She’d caught the fireman out. Geralt really should have thought to buy Triss a coffee too if he didn’t want Yennefer to find out about his little crush on Ciri’s teacher, not that that would have stopped her. She always found a way to get his secrets out of him. The poor man seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut around her. It was a miracle she hadn’t cottoned on sooner.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the familiar ringing of the old hand bell signalling that it was time for the next group of kids to go in for lunch. She glanced around to see the source of the sound. Istredd was hovering by the doorway with the bell in his hands. It was the same one that they had used when Yennefer had attended the school as a young bell, a heavy brass bell with a dark wooden handle. She remembered how her classmates had always argued over who’s turn it was to ring the bell at the end of break times.

“Time for lunch, Ciri. Go on inside with the rest of your class. I’ll be right there.” She released the young girls hand. 

“Are you going to sit with us?” Ciri asked excitably. 

“As long as Mr Jaskier doesn’t start singing.” She teased. “Of course I will, and Ciri?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to wash your hands.” Yennefer reminded her, raising her voice as the girl began to run off towards the school building.

Yennefer sighed with a shake of her head and then strolled over to her old flame. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward this time. She sighed internally and then flashed a smile at Istredd as she caught his eyes. The history teacher smiled back softly and she felt that long gone familiar warmth spread from her heart. He still had the same crinkles in the corner of his eyes when he smiled at her and there was a kind calmness in his eyes that grounded her the way it always did. 

“Yenna.” He greeted her softly when she reached him. 

“Hello, Is.”

“You look good. Are you well?” He asked with a tilt of his head. 

She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s weird to be back. It always is but Geralt asked for Ciri and I couldn’t say no.” 

“Geralt asked.” Istredd sighed, his muscles tensing and a hardness glazing over his eyes. 

“Is, don’t start.” Yennefer rolled her eyes at the show of petty jealousy. “He needed me. Ciri needed me.” 

To her surprise he let it go. Istredd had never forgiven her for moving on so fast with Geralt after they broke up and her relationship with the fireman was something that had caused tension between them ever since. “How is she?”

“Ciri?” 

“Yeah. It’s all anyone talks about in the staff room, Ciri and Geralt.” Istredd grumbled and rolled his eyes at the mention of Ciri’s father figure. 

“Oh come on, Is. He’s not that bad. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.” Yennefer teased, delighting in the way he shuffled awkwardly on his feet and dropped his gaze. She even noticed a faint blush under his brown skin.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of, is there?” Istredd’s dark brown eyes suddenly bore down into hers with a sudden intensity, a shy smile gracing his lips. 

She shook her head, ignoring the dull ache that had now settled into her lower back. She should probably think about taking some painkillers but she didn’t want to show weakness in front of her former lover. “Geralt and I, whatever we might have had, it’s over. It has been for a long time now, but he’s my friend, Is. If you can’t accept that then—”

“—then what, Yenna?” 

“Then whatever could be between us can never happen, and I don’t think you want that.” Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him and he nodded. 

His hand reached out to hers before he remembered the hoards of children surrounding them and he pulled back, but not before the tips of his fingers had brushed against her wrist. “I’m sorry, Yenna. I should never have—”

“No, you shouldn’t.” She agreed. 

“I didn’t know.” He looked down at the ground sombrely. 

“That was never the point.” She sighed. “Look, I’ve got to go. Ciri will be wondering what’s taking me so long. Do you have my number?”

“You’ve probably changed it.” He shrugged. “It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken just the two of us. Triss is normally here.” 

Yennefer pulled out a business card from her purse and pressed it into her friend’s hand. She cursed mentally as she noticed her tablet box was missing. She must have left it in her other purse. Maybe she could see if Triss or Tissaia had anything on them. She would have to swing by reception before she went into the dining room. 

“We’ll talk more. I promise. I miss you, Is. You were always a good friend to me.”

“I miss you too, Yenna.” He nodded sadly. 

She patted his cheek softly and tried her best to give him a reassuring smile, ignoring the way he still made her heart flutter in her chest, and then she brushed past him and into the old school building that seemed to never let her go.

* * *

The rest of the day at the school seemed to go without a hitch. Yennefer enjoyed seeing most of her old colleagues, although she could have done without Stregobor’s lingering gaze whenever they were in the same room together. She repressed a shudder and guided Ciri towards her car. It was a sleek black convertible which ran smoothly and practically purred when she hit the accelerator. She wasn’t overly familiar with the ins and outs of it but it was gorgeous to look at and she liked to travel in style. It was one of the first things she’d bought for herself when her art blog had started bringing in more money. Unfortunately Cidaris was a city where the roads seemed to be consistently full of traffic. There was no fun in driving her car in a city like that so she’d left the car with Triss whilst she was away. 

“Auntie Yen?” Ciri babbled away. 

“Yes, Ciri?” She glanced over at the girl who was buckling herself into the front seat. 

Ciri was looking up at her with wide green eyes. “Where’s Dad?” 

“He has to take the fire engine back to the station.” She explained and placed her hand on Ciri’s arm to try and reassure her. “He’ll be joining us at the restaurant once he finishes work.”

Ciri nodded. “Ok!” 

Ciri then proceeded to tell Yennefer all about her life in Posada, her friends at the school, particularly a young boy called Dara and about one Jaskier Pankratz. Yennefer sighed. If she never had to hear about the younger teacher again she would be happy. 

Although she did have to admit she was impressed with his style of teaching. Every single one of the children Yennefer had met that had been in Jaskier’s class at school was kind hearted and loyal to a fault. 

That didn’t mean she wanted to hear about him non-stop from both Ciri and her ex. 

It took Yennefer more time than she’d anticipated to get both her and Ciri ready for their meal with Geralt. She’d insisted on treating them to dinner as she wasn’t in Posada very often and quite frankly she didn’t trust Geralt’s cooking skills. She’d tried to get Ciri into a beautiful turquoise dress for the occasion but the young girl had flat out refused and Yennefer had to spend quite some time calming her down and wiping away the tears. In the end they’d put together a nice sparkly green top with some black jeans. Ciri had asked Yennefer to help her with some make up after watching Yennefer apply her own. That had surprised her after the pandemonium of the dress but she helped Ciri put on some glittery eyeshadow and lip gloss and Ciri even managed to sit still long enough for Yennefer to curl her hair. 

Of course that meant that Yennefer barely had time to finish her own hair. She compromised and deftly braided her hair to keep it out of her face and then they were ready to go back out. 

Geralt was waiting for them in the restaurant. He looked worn down and exhausted but managed to muster up a smile for Ciri and waved them over. 

“Dad!” The young girl ran over to Geralt and he caught her in a hug. 

Yennefer smiled at the pair of them. 

“The wolves are going to the pub after work.” Geralt grunted. “They insisted I join them after. I’ll try and be back for bed time.”

Ciri pouted. “Can’t I come too?”

Geralt shook his head. “You’re too young. Maybe when you’re older.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow at her ex. “I come all this way, Geralt, and you’re spending the evening with your colleagues.”

Geralt hummed nonchalantly. “They wouldn’t let me say no. I haven’t been out with them since…”

Yennefer waved her hand to cut him off. 

Since Ciri. 

Of course he hadn’t. 

And now she was here it would give the man a chance to spend the evening away from Ciri, the first for a long time. 

“Ciri and I have plenty to catch up on. You can go but don’t stay too late.” 

“I’m not a child, Yen.” Geralt grumbled back.

She smirked. “No but I know what your friends are like. Lambert in particular.”

“Uncle Lambert is fun!” Ciri grinned. “Please can I come?”

“Not this time, little Lion Cub.” Geralt ruffled her hair and Ciri swatted his hands away. 

“Dad! You’re ruining it!” 

Geralt looked taken aback by her protests. 

“I styled it for her, Geralt. I’m sure you noticed.” Yennefer gave him a pointed look. 

He blinked as he looked at the ashen-haired girl more closely. 

“Yeah. I noticed.” He lied. “You look lovely, Princess.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes and picked up the menu. “I’m starving. Let’s not waste anymore time with mindless conversation.”

In the end they only ordered one course. Ciri was tired from the exciting day at school and Geralt was eager to meet up with his friends. He ordered steak and chips, predictably. Ciri went for chicken nuggets and chips, Geralt even allowed her to order a fizzy drink. Yennefer preferred a more sophisticated option and chose panfried sea bass with spinach and new potatoes. Although that didn’t stop a small handful of Geralt’s chips from ending up on her plate, in return in took some of her potatoes. It was a slightly painful reminder of their happier years as a couple and a habit they had yet to break. She squeezed his hand under the table and he flashed her a small smile. 

“Thanks for coming, Yen.” He said softly. 

She nodded. “For Ciri.” 

“I know, but I appreciate it all the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Next chapter is Eskel's POV and then back to Geralt. Jaskier and Geralt's POV become more frequent as the fic goes on. I currently have 21 chapters written, and I'm just over halfway through summer term. 
> 
> I would love to hear what you think! 
> 
> Also I'm on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) for more Geraskier/witcher content. I also have a few shorter Geraskier stories on the go :) 
> 
> \- Yaz


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers so skip if you don't want spoilers:
> 
> Alcohol - Including a rather nasty hangover.   
> Mentions of past child abuse at the end of the chapter in reference to Eskel and Lambert's past. It's also implied that this is why Eskel has his scar but no graphic detail into hows and whys.

The children’s screams were still echoing around Eskel’s head. The afternoon had gone pretty much the same way as the morning. The children in the afternoon had been older but no less excitable. Some of the year eleven kids had decided to make it a game to flirt with the four of them which was beyond awkward and Eskel had almost been praying for the snotty little kids back. 

Geralt had only just arrived by the time they were on their second rounds of drinks, dropped off by Yennefer in her swanky sports car that was the envy of the whole team, apart from Geralt who was weirdly attached to his old truck. It had been a while since the silver-haired man had managed to join them for team drinks. Since Ciri had moved in with him, he just hadn’t been able to leave her in the evenings and he didn’t think it was fair to Coën to ask him to stay late just so he could go to the pub. It was good to have the whole team around for once. It had been too long.

Eskel hummed happily as he took a long swig of his beer and tried to push the memories of their day at school from his head. The cool frothy liquid danced over his tastebuds before hitting his stomach. He belched unashamedly and grinned at his teammates. Vesemir looked at him in disgust whilst the others laughed in amusement. Renfri smirked and burped loudly before setting her own pint down on the table.

“So boys, how was school?” Renfri asked mirthfully. 

“Shit.” Lambert replied, never one for mincing his words. “A pointless waste of time if you ask me.”

“We didn’t ask you, wolf.” Vesemir chided. “The statistics will tell all in time.”

“Lighten up you old bastard.” Lambert chuckled. “Another round wolves?” 

“You paying?” Eskel asked his brother.

“He’s paying.” Geralt grumbled gruffly as he emptied his own glass.

“You’re not in charge here, White Wolf?” Lambert growled. 

“No. I am. Now get to the bar, Lambert. Before the barrels dry up and we all wither with old age.” Vesemir raised an eyebrow and the younger fireman huffed and sulked away towards the bar. 

“Was it really that bad?” Renfri asked with a smirk. “Not that I expected anything else. That school is hell on Earth.” 

“It wasn’t that bad.” Eskel shrugged. “We got to spray the parents with the hose!”

“Did you now?” Vesemir gave him a disapproving stare and he schooled his expression into his best poker face. 

“Accidentally, of course.” 

“Bullshit!” Renfri cackled. “That I would have liked to have seen. Shame you couldn’t get old Stregobor too.”

“Shrike.” Vesemir warned cooly. 

“What?! It’s just water.” Renfri challenged and crossed her arms. 

The bickering went back and forth until Lambert came back with the beers. Eskel stood up to help Lambert bring the rest back to the table, slipping him a tenner to cover half the costs. Lambert could be a dick sometimes but Eskel had always felt protective over him, that’s what older siblings were for he guessed. 

“Thanks.” Lambert grumbled. 

“Don’t mention it.” Eskel nudged him gently with his shoulders. Some of the beer Lambert was holding sloshed over the side of the glass and onto the floor. “That one can be Geralt’s yeah?”

“You’re lucky it went on the floor and not over me.” Lambert growled and then grinned. “Fuck yeah it’s Geralt’s.” 

They both laughed as they made it back to the table. By the time they got back Geralt was glaring menacingly at Renfri whilst Vesemir appeared to be doing his best to hide his amusement. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Renfri.” Geralt huffed as Lambert dumped the less than full pint glass in front of him. “What the fuck Lambert?”

“Eskel knocked me.” Lambert shrugged. “You can go lick the rest of it off the floor if you want?”

“Hmm. I’ll pass thanks.” Geralt rolled his eyes.

“So what is our darling she-wolf talking about?” Eskel grinned as he slid back onto the bar stool.

“I was just asking Ger-Bear about his day at the school. Apparently he didn’t think it was that bad.”

“It wasn’t.”

“So I asked him why and he blushed!” Renfri cried gleefully. 

“I did not blush. It’s just hot in here.” Geralt grumbled. 

Eskel grinned as he spotted an opportunity to tease the white-haired fireman. He shared a knowing look with Lambert and then leant forward onto the table, grinning at Geralt. “Say, Geralt?”

“What?” 

“What happened to the thermos you had this morning?” Both Vesemir and Lambert laughed as they realised that Eskel had caught Geralt in a trap. 

“I was finished with it.” Geralt replied stoically.

“But it wasn’t in the truck when we left.” Lambert pressed with a smirk.

“You know what?” Eskel drawled as he sipped his beer. “One of the teachers had a flask just like it.”

“What a coincidence…” Geralt raised an eyebrow at their antics. 

“Oh yeah. The one with the jumper and the stupid hair!” Lambert grinned. 

“His hair isn’t stupid.” Geralt growled and then stopped still when he noticed the rest of the wolves staring at him with matching smirks. “Fuck!” 

“So that was the famous Jaskier then.” Eskel tilted his head. It wasn’t a question, not really. Stregobor had pointed out Jaskier as Ciri’s teacher when they’d arrived at the school. 

“Hmm.” Geralt replied, ever so helpfully. 

“Don’t know what all the fuss was about personally.” Lambert said, wiping away the beer froth from his lips. “He seemed pretty ordinary to me. The way Geralt was going on about him, I was expecting… like a super model or something”

“I was not going on about him. He’s Ciri’s teacher and she spends a lot of time with him. I talk about Ciri ergo Jaskier sometimes comes up in conversation.” Geralt glared over the top of his glass. “I can’t just ignore a big part of her life. She’s excited about school and Jaskier has been a fantastic teacher for her.”

“Mhmm. Do tell us more, Geralt.” Renfri smirked.

“He’s been able to help her through music. Ciri hasn’t stopped begging me for a guitar since her first week. Jaskier suggested it might be a good idea to start with a ukulele as it’s smaller for her to hold and has simpler chords, and the way he’s managed to adapt the curriculum around her family situation. He makes sure the books and exercises they study don’t just have a mum and dad.”

“So kids could have… two dads?” Vesemir asked calmly and Geralt completely missed the twinkle in the older man’s eyes. 

“Or two mums, or one parent, or no parents or even more than two! Ciri started to realise it isn’t just her that’s different. Dara, her friend, lives in the kids’ home so it’s been good for him too. They are starting to see that normal isn’t so normal.” Geralt continued. Eskel was, at this point, hiding his laughs behind his hand. It didn’t help he could feel Lambert’s shoulders shaking next to him and Renfri looked like she was about to choke on her drink. The thing with Geralt is he didn’t say much, that is until you got him talking, and then it was rather difficult to shut him up, especially after a few drinks. 

“And all the kids are learning sign language for Dara. Ciri taught me a few words too.” Geralt continued and then made a few signs with his hands. Eskel vaguely recognised it but couldn’t remember what they meant. “That means ‘Hi, My name is Geralt.’” 

“Sounds like he’s a great teacher.” Eskel hummed in feigned politeness but Geralt didn’t catch the sarcasm.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher for her.” He agreed with dopey smile. “He’s just made this whole thing seem so much easier. When Ciri first started school I was bloody terrified. I didn’t think I could do the whole single parent thing. I was flailing and he just floated in and made it all make sense.”

Eskel scowled slightly at that. If he didn’t know better he would have said Geralt was in love with Jaskier. They’d all assumed up until this point that it had just been a crush or an infatuation. He glanced over at Lambert who was staring incredulously at their teammate. Renfri and Vesemir both had similar expressions on their faces. 

“Geralt?” Eskel asked quietly, snapping the man out his thoughts. “He’s Ciri’s teacher. How can he have helped you that much? You’ve barely met him.”

Geralt flushed and snapped his mouth shut and fixed him with a glare. His amber eyes almost glowing in the dark light of the pub. “I’m going to the loo.” 

And with that he stalked off to the bar leaving the rest of the wolf rota in a stunned silence. 

“It’s just an infatuation.” Renfri sighed. “There’s no way.”

“He was never like this with Yennefer.” Vesemir added thoughtfully. 

“Yennefer is insane.” Lambert muttered. “Sexy as hell but mad.”

Eskel punched Lambert’s arm. “Watch it.”

“Oh tell me I’m wrong.” Lambert growled. 

“You’re wrong.” Eskel replied with an easy grin. 

“Fuck you!”

“Really, brother, I’d really rather not.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Boys!” Renfri slammed her pint down. “Honestly, you’re supposed to be adults.”

Eskel winked at his teammate and kicked Lambert lightly under the table, plastering a feigned innocent expression on his face when Lambert yelped and scowled at him across the table. The beer was warming his body nicely and as they huddled around the small sticky table in a dark corner of the pub, the smell of stale beer and sweat permeating the air, he could feel the stress of the day melt away. 

* * *

Eskel flopped onto his sofa and scrambled to find the remote. His muscles were sore from holding the fire hose for such long periods of time, and his head was fuzzy from one too many pints of beer. The tv crackled into life showing flashy crime show where everyone had bright white teeth and carried a gun. He growled and brought up the guide. He scrolled through the channels for a few minutes, nothing catching his eye, when he was disturbed by a loud bleat. 

He groaned and sat up, wincing as the room spun around him. A ball of sandy white fluffy was staring at him intensely. Eskel stared back into the goat’s brown eyes determined to win their impromptu staring match. The goat bleated loudly again and Eskel laughed. 

“Ha!” He pointed at Lil’ Bleater. “I win!”

The goat stamped a hoof with a sharp click on the wooden floor and bleated again. 

Eskel rolled his eyes. “Suppose you want feeding?” 

Another bleat. 

“Fine. Greedy bastard. Come on then.” Eskel stood up and then promptly sat back down as his legs wobbled underneath him. “Fucking Lambert.” He muttered. His cursed brother had insisted on another round when they had all been ready to go and Eskel was not one to let his brother get the better of him. He stood up again, this time successfully. Lil’ Bleater promptly decided his trousers were now his dinner. “No, no! Get off. Come on you. There’s hay in the yard, much better than clothes. Hmm yummy hay?” 

The goat just bleated impatiently. 

“Should have just gotten a dog.” Eskel rolled his eyes and stumbled outside to the garden. There were two out buildings. One served as a shelter for his beloved pet and the second stored his food. Lambert had laughed hysterically when Eskel had proudly pronounced his attention to become a goat dad but all the wolves had rallied round to help him build the shelter and mini barn. 

It had started to rain outside and Eskel grimaced as the cold water crept down the back of his neck. “Should have gotten a cat.” He pondered. He could still be inside curled up on the sofa watching tv but nope, not him. No, he was stuck in the rain with a soggy ball of fluff that was currently trying to eat his trousers again. 

“Lil’ Bleater, no.” He moaned. “I need these for work.” He sighed and ruffled the goat between his little horns. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

It didn’t take him too long to grab enough hay to fill Lil’ Bleater’s trough and soon enough the goat was happily munching away. He sat down next to the trough and scratched the goats back whilst he ate. “You’re a good goat really, aren’t you buddy?” 

The shelter wasn’t as cold as he’d been expecting. Although that was probably the beer talking, still it wasn’t too shabby. The straw on the floor was dry and the roof kept the rain out. It was good enough for a goat, even a spoilt brat like Lil’ Bleater. 

Eskel smiled dozily as he ran his fingers through the goats coarse fur. “Everyone should get a goat.” He told his friend.

And then promptly fell asleep. 

* * *

The forest glade was bright and fresh as he wandered through the trees. There was a definite chill to the air as he wrapped his fluffy red dressing gown tighter around his body. He turned round when he heard the sound of pattering footsteps behind him. The light shining through the trees almost blinded him and the whole forest seemed to be spin around him before he managed to focus on the sound of the footsteps. It was Lil’ Bleater trotted happily next to him, munching loudly on what looked like a mouthful of hay. Eskel licked his lips as the cold air numbed his face, the taste of soil and straw flooded his mouth and he spat out on the floor. 

Lil’ Bleater opened his mouth to bleat loudly, as was his way, but instead the strangest thing happened. 

“Eskel!” The goat shouted. 

“What the fuck?” Eskel groaned and rubbed his eyes. 

The forest spun again and Eskel tripped over a branch. Only when he looked down the grass had disappeared from underneath his feet. 

“Eskel!” The goat bleated again. 

Eskel fell to his knees, landing in thick mud that splattered over his face but when he tried to wipe it off he realised he couldn’t breathe through thick bundles of hay and straw that were now almost choking him. 

“ESKEL!” 

He gasped and his eyes flew open as a bucket of ice cold water was dunked over his head. He coughed and spluttered as the cold water hit the back of his throat and his whole body tensed up as the icy liquid dripped down his spine. 

“Holy mother of god!” He yelled and jumped to his feet. “Fucking hell Lambert!”

His darling brother was in fits of laughter, with an empty bucket in his hands. He was wearing his uniform which was… unusual. They usually got changed at work. In fact they stored their uniforms at work. How was Lambert wearing his uniform? Was he still dreaming?

He blinked the water from his eyes and groaned at the dull pain behind his eyes. His mouth was dry and he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach by a bull. He rubbed his face as he tried to get his bearings. It didn’t feel like he was still dreaming, but why was he in the shelter? His fingers caught on some straw that was nestled into his hair. 

“You alright there, brother?” Lambert smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You got a little something…” Lambert reached out and poked his forehead. “there. Pretty sure it’s goat shit.”

Eskel groaned again and sat back down on the floor. “What happened?”

“I think somebody had one too many beers and decided to hunker down with his goat for the night. Honestly, I’m worried about your relationship with that thing.” Lambert chuckled and helped him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get you some water and paracetamol.”

“You’re being nice.” He grumbled as Lambert dragged him into the kitchen.

“Yeah well.” Lambert shrugged. “The old man isn’t gonna go easy on you once we drag your hungover ass to work.”

“Fuck.” He moaned as Lambert pressed a cold glass of water into his hands and began to root around the drawers for his painkillers. “Bathroom.” 

Lambert raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Tablets are in the bathroom.” Eskel explained. 

“Right.” Lambert said with a nod. “Save some water for the tablets then haul that sorry ass of yours into the shower. I’ve got another job to attend but I’m picking you up on the way back. You’d better be presentable by then or else it will be both our necks on the block.”

“S’your fault.” Eskel grumbled. 

Lambert, the arse, only laughed. “Why do you think I’m helping?”

And with that Lambert clapped him on the back, making his stomach lurch precariously, and then left him to go in search of painkillers. He downed most of the pint of water, and grimaced as the liquid hit his empty stomach. He stumbled towards his refrigerator, praying to some higher power that he still had bacon in the fridge. 

“Come on, Melitele. Don’t fail me now.” He croaked and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the packet neatly stored on the lower shelf. “Yes! Bacon!”

He jumped as something hit him on the back of the head. He spun round too quickly for his fragile stomach to see Lambert grinning at him. He looked down at his feet to see the worn packet of tablets. 

“You’re welcome.” Lambert grinned. “You have about an hour. Get your shit together, and get the shit out of your hair.”

“Thanks.” Eskel huffed sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. 

“Oh and I fed that little monster of yours before I woke you up. So… yeah.” Lambert growled. “See you.”

Eskel smiled at Lambert. The younger man had always struggled to show affection. Eskel assumed it probably went back to their childhood. Their parents had been pretty fucking shit and eventually they’d been dumped at the local children’s home. Eskel had realised it had been for best. He was a few years older than Lambert and had acted as a shield between their father and his younger brother on multiple occasions but Lambert had never understood. He’d struggled to get over the rejection of being left at the crappy home. It hadn’t been easy being in care but they’d stuck together. Lambert refused to be fostered without Eskel and foster parents never looked twice at him. He was an older kid which already made it harder and the scar on his face scared even the kindest people away.

In short. 

People were shit. 

But it had just made Eskel fight harder to be a good person, to be a person deserving of love. Whereas Lambert had become bitter at the world beyond his brother. In time Lambert had accepted the fire crew as his new family but he was never able to express himself in the same way as Eskel. Eskel had gotten pretty good at reading Lambert though. His actions spoke louder than his words. Lambert coming over to check on him and feeding his goat were all ways in which he showed he cared. 

He chuckled as he shook his head despairingly at Lambert and sauntered towards the shower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goat Dad!!! I included that mostly cos a friend of mine adores Eskel and his goat. They even bought a goat plushie. :D 
> 
> Any hoo, I hope you liked that! 
> 
> For those that don't know, my tumblr blog got wiped so I started a new one. I'm now Jaskierswolf, I'll evenutally swap my Ao3 name to match but I'm keeping AvengersBarnes on here for now, but follow me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) for more witcher/Geraskier content! 
> 
> Let me know what you think. Next chapter we're back to Geralt's POV and parent's evening! :D Oh and I'm also nearly finished posting my Shapeshifter!Jaskier Fic, The Shape of Love. So after that it will be the next different meet short story, with a healthy dollop of Geralt whump! 
> 
> \- Yaz


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right... This is the last chapter for a few days. I swear. I just had backlog of fics and in my defence... it is normal update day! (Maybe it's just my anxiety telling me to shup up, if so just ignore me and enjoy the fic!)
> 
> Warnings!
> 
> More alcohol/alcohol abuse in this one in the form of a side character drink driving. Geralt doesn't react particularly well but everything ends up alright.

Coën was laughing loudly as he started to unpack Ciri’s craft box. The teenager had barely been in their house a minute before Ciri had launched herself at him with endless energy. Geralt felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched them. He wondered whether he’d ever had that much energy as a child. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Ok, little lion cub.” Geralt called over to the blonde. She looked up at him with sparkling green eyes, although the sparkle was probably partly due to the cloud of glitter that had exploded from the box. “Be good for Coën, ok?”

Ciri rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, looking very much unimpressed. “Yes Dad.” She droned. 

“I mean it, Princess.” Geralt replied more firmly but opened his arms as he knelt to the floor and she bundled in to give him a tight hug. He kissed her hair before pulling away. “Remember, if you want to mess with the glitter you have to help clean it up.” He reminded her gently. 

Ciri stuck her tongue out of him. “I know Dad. You tell me every time!” 

“And every time I end up cleaning glitter off of the carpet.” He reminded her. 

She grumbled at that but didn’t say anything, favouring to cross her arm in front of her chest. Her face flushed red. Coën scooped her up into his arms with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Mr Rivia, I’ll make sure she helps this time.”

Ciri scowled but gripped onto Coën’s chest before a look of horror flashed over her face. “You won’t tell Mr Jaskier, will you?” She asked quietly. 

“Do I need to tell Mr Jaskier?” Geralt asked with a tilt of his head. 

Ciri shook her head almost violently in protest. “No! I’ll be good. I’ll clean up. Promise.”

Geralt smiled softly, knowing that it wouldn’t be the last time she spilled glitter all over the carpet but it was a process and she was learning. “Do you help clean up for Mr Jaskier after art class?”

She nodded and pouted at him. “Otherwise we’re not allowed paints next class.”

Geralt nodded. “Wise man.”

“The paint stops working if we forget to put it away.” Ciri continued with her nose scrunched up as she recalled what her teacher said. “Mr Jaskier says if we look after things then they look after us back.”

“Mr Jaskier is right.” Geralt reached forward to squeeze her hand. “Is there anything you want me to say to him tonight, little lion cub?”

“Ummm…” Ciri thought about it. “Tell him that he sings better than you.”

Coën laughed at then and Geralt sighed heavily. “Alright, Princess. I’ll be home to read you a bedtime story.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Geralt ruffled her hair and grabbed the keys to his truck. Ciri waved him goodbye as he shut the door. 

It was raining heavily outside but he didn’t want to go back for his umbrella. It would only confuse his daughter if he kept going in and out of the house. So he pulled his thick black coat up to his ears and dashed to the car. It had been bright sunshine and blue skies earlier that day when he’d picked Ciri up from school. He rolled his eyes. It was almost impossible to guess what the weather would be on an hour to hour basis in this town, but at least the rainier months meant there were less wildfires in the forests so slightly less work for his team. 

Work had been slightly less busy since the school day a couple of weeks ago. They had had less calls for jobs that just weren’t for the fire crew and domestic fires had dropped slightly, not counting the university dorms. Of course there had been the usual spike for Bonfire Night. Geralt hated working Bonfire Night. It was like everyone forgot that fire could be deadly and destructive. He blamed the Eternal Fire priests for that. It was a stupid tradition to celebrate the gift of the Eternal Fire that had made it into society’s mainstream calendar. Geralt sighed. Really it had all just become a way for companies to earn more money on tacky decorations and fireworks. Geralt shook his hair out as he slipped into the truck, spraying water droplets all over the dashboard. He chuckled to himself. Yennefer would have rolled her eyes and made some joke about him not actually being a wolf. 

It was the little things in life. 

The wind screen wipers were working over time as the rain battered his truck. He sighed as he squinted through the waterfall at the road in front of him. The sky was dark grey and cloudy, streaks of light burst through the clouds though, bouncing off the road and intermittently blinding him. Luckily it was only a short journey to the school and there wasn’t much traffic on the road. His truck was made for worse conditions than this and handled the slippery corners without any trouble. Even so, it was good to be cautious. 

He drove slower than he normally would, frowning as he noticed the lights of a car behind him in his rear view mirror. They were driving way too close to him considering the conditions. He just hoped they weren’t heading to the school. He really didn’t fancy a confrontation. He just wanted to get inside and talk to Jaskier about Ciri’s progress. He hadn’t seen the teacher since the wolf pack’s visit to the school a couple of weeks ago and the last week had been half term so he hadn’t even had Jaskier’s weekly email to look forward to, not that the email was the highlight of his week. That would be ridiculous. It was just a very small crush on the teacher and he was really just very proud of Ciri’s progress every week. That was why he was so excited about his first parents’ evening with Jaskier. He’d finally have a chance to really discuss Ciri’s school life with her teacher. It had nothing to do with Jaskier’s bright blue eyes and heartwarming smiles. 

It sounded like a lie, even in his head. 

He groaned as he saw the car behind him start to indicate as they approached the school’s turning. 

“Just don’t say anything.” He muttered to himself as he pulled into a parking space a little away from the school, hoping the rain would entice the other car to park closer to the door but there weren’t many spaces left and the red sports car pulled up next to him. “Don’t say anything and they’ll go away.”

He took a deep breath before opening the door carefully and bracing against the rain. He slammed the door shut and strode purposefully towards the door, cold water already seeping into his damp clothes. He took a deep breath a let the scent of the rain wash over him. He’d always loved the smell of a rainstorm. The cool water had seeped into the tarmac and the air came to life with the sweet scent of rain. It reminded him of camping trips he’d taken with Vesemir as a kid. The fresh leafy smell of the forest. It was like home.

“Hey!” A voice called behind him and he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. He carried on towards the school, pretending he hadn’t heard anything. “Oi! I know you can hear me, freak!” 

Geralt growled and spun round to face the unknown abuser. “I can hear you but it’s tipping it down. If you want to talk then wait until we’re inside.” 

“Oh no, you’re not avoiding me.” The man yelled back. “Why the fuck were you driving like that? I’m already late and you were going five miles under the speed limit man. The fuck is wrong with you!?” 

Geralt kept his face forward as he pushed through the doors to the reception. Ms Merigold smiled brightly when she saw him. Her thick dark caramel hair was pulled back into a messy bun on the top of her head. Wispy strands of dark wavy hair had escaped and was scattered like a halo around her face. 

“Geralt! So glad you could make it.” She beamed. 

“Where we going?” He asked with a tilt of his head. 

“School hall.” She nodded down the corridor. “You just need to sign in.” She passed him a plastic blue clipboard with a list of names. He flipped through the classes until he found Jaskier’s name and scrawled his signature by Ciri’s name on the register.

“Stop ignoring me, freak.” The man behind him growled again and shoved him in the back. 

Geralt barely stumbled forward. Ms Merigold’s eyes widened and she looked ready to join the fray, but Geralt shook his head at her. 

“Excuse me, I was just signing in.” Geralt turned round to the man. He was a smaller stubbier man than him with sandy blond hair. He reeked of sweat and booze. Geralt had half a mind to call the police, he was probably in no state to be driving anywhere, especially in the terrible conditions. “Perhaps you’d like to do the same.”

“Don’t tell me what to do! I should have gone first, you asshole. I told you I was late.” He pushed around him to the desk. 

“Mr Foltest, I must ask you to calm down and apologise to Mr Rivia.” Ms Merigold said firmly as he tore the register from her hand. 

“Oh sure, he’s Geralt but I’m Mr Foltest. What’s up with that? You sleeping together?” He smirked nastily. 

Geralt had had enough, he was cold and wet, and this guy was being a complete shit of a man for no reason. He grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him off his feet. “Enough! Apologise. Now.” He growled. 

“Geralt. It’s ok.” Ms Merigold called. 

“Call the police!” Foltest cried. “I’m being assaulted!”

“You’re being detained.” Geralt said through gritted teeth and dropped the man, swiftly grabbing his hands behind his back and holding him in place. “Ms Merigold, he stinks of alcohol and I can confirm that he was driving. I don’t think it’s safe to let him go.”

“I’ll call the police.” She nodded and rushed to dial the emergency number.

The man squirmed in Geralt’s hold, swearing and shouting at the top of his voice but Geralt tuned it out. He could already feel his head begin to throb and this man was not making it any easier. He could vaguely hear Ms Merigold’s voice on the phone to the police and then afterwards trying to calm down the man struggling in his grip but Geralt let it all wash over him. He just focussed on keeping a firm grip on the man without causing too much damage. He really didn’t want to get done for assault. Vesemir would kill him.

“Geralt?” 

A new voice broke through his thoughts and his eyes flung open to see Jaskier standing in the corridor. Blue eyes glimmering with worry. His hair was ruffled up messily, Geralt presumed the younger man had been running his hands through it. For a second his traitorous mind wondered if it was really as soft as it looked. He still remembered the way his fire engine had smelled faintly of chamomile for days after their trip to the school. He was sure that scent had come from Jaskier but he hadn’t been close enough to the man since to confirm his theory. Either way he’d caught himself dumping a box of chamomile tea into his trolley the last time he was at the grocery store. He’d told himself it was due to the increased stress levels he’d been experiencing since Ciri had barrelled into his life but now he was starting to wonder. 

“Just waiting for the police.” Geralt grumbled. “Stinks of booze, not to mention he was trying to start a fight.” 

“Are you hurt?” Jaskier asked. “I was worried when you didn’t show up for your slot.”

“I’m fine.” He grumbled but quickly soften when he saw the concerned looked in Jaskier’s beautiful blue eyes. “Thank you for checking.”

“He attacked me!” Foltest yelled. 

“Mr Foltest, you pushed Mr Rivia first, not to mention verbally abusing him and trying to provoke a reaction.” Ms Merigold stated, her voice shaking a little but Geralt was proud of the fire in her eyes. “The police are on the way. Jaskier, perhaps you could help clear reception?” 

Geralt looked around with a start. He hadn’t noticed the crowd that had gathered around them. They were all looking wide-eyed and fearfully at the pair of them. He rolled his eyes, maybe Vesemir would still kill him. It wouldn’t look good on the fire station. He should have kept his anger in check. 

Jaskier jumped into action and clapped his hands loudly. “Alrighty!” He called out. “You heard Ms Merigold. Nothing to see here! Please make your way to the school hall or to your vehicles if you have finished up with your teachers.” 

A few members of the crowd began to disperse but a great deal of them remained to watch. Jaskier sighed and rolled his eyes. 

Then to Geralt’s surprise he jumped up onto the reception counter nimbly and waved his arms wildly. 

“Come on now!” He raised his voice again. “Get a shuffle on. Otherwise I’ll have to start singing!” Jaskier flashed Geralt a smile as he said that. “And trust me, I know a song that could really get on your nerves. I don’t teach year two for no reason!” 

“If you’re not careful he’ll get his lute out.” Geralt added sarcastically. 

Jaskier laughed. “It’s a beautiful instrument and so under-appreciated.” 

The rest of the parents slowly filtered out of the reception area, but Jaskier stayed behind. He slid down so he was sitting on the countertop rather than standing on it. 

“Watch my paperwork, Jaskier.” Triss fussed as sheets went flying to the floor. 

“Priorities, Triss.” Jaskier shot back with a wink. 

“Would you two shut up?” Geralt sighed.

Jaskier’s mouth snapped shut and he looked down at Geralt with the saddest expression. He felt his heart clench in his chest. Damn it, Jaskier must have invented puppy dog eyes. Even Ciri’s weren’t as good. 

“I’ve got a headache.” He added as an explanation. 

Jaskier’s expression morphed back into one of concern. “I’ll grab us both a coffee from the staffroom for after the police arrive.” He jumped down onto the floor and went to scarper away. 

“I’ll have one too!” Ms Merigold shouted after him.

“Two hands!” He called back, turning round and waving his hands at her before running off. 

Ms Merigold huffed and started to pick up her papers, glaring at Mr Foltest as she did. “This is your fault.” She grumbled under her breath. 

* * *

The school hall fell silent when Geralt finally made it in with Jaskier by his side. He gripped the hot mug of coffee tightly his hand. The mug was obviously Jaskier’s. It was bright yellow and covered in music notes.

He sighed. “Great.” 

Jaskier nudged him gently as they walked side by side. “It’s alright. You did good. You heard what they said, he was in no fit state to drive.”

Geralt chuckled. “Yeah. Wish they wouldn’t stare though.” 

“You’re a hero.” Jaskier laughed melodically. “Get used to it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt didn’t feel like a hero. He’d acted too rashly. He should never have let the guy get the better of him. He should have asked Ms Merigold to call the police once he’d gone into the school hall. Make sure he couldn’t drive home without the fuss. 

“Hey?” Jaskier put his hand on Geralt’s arm. “You want to do this in my classroom?”

Geralt turned to him and raised his eyebrows. Jaskier was looking up at him with those beautiful cornflower blue eyes that haunted his dreams. He was wearing a turquoise button up shirt with black trousers. The top couple of buttons were undone, revealing a tease of dark chest hair that he hadn’t expected from the teacher. Geralt forced his gaze back to the teacher’s face, skipping over the rosy pink lips that had featured more than once in his dreams. The blue of his eyes seemed even brighter and they complimented his shirt beautifully. His hair looked as soft as ever and fell over his eyes. Geralt swallowed as he took in his appearance. He was entranced. 

Jaskier was…stunning. 

And he was still waiting for an answer. 

Geralt nodded. “Yeah. Probably best. I think we’re distracting everyone else by being here. Should just lay low for a bit.” 

Jaskier laughed. “They just can’t handle how cool we are.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt raised an eyebrow at the younger man.

“Yes, my dear?” 

“You threatened to play the lute at them.”

“Hey!” He gaped and threw his hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know that the lute is very cool!”

“The lute is not cool, Jaskier.” Geralt shot back as they back out of the hall. “It’s the complete opposite of cool.”

Jaskier paused in the corridor with one hand on his hip and a mischievous smirk on his face. Geralt frowned, why did he get the feeling that he’d just walked into a trap?

“Soooo…” Jaskier’s drawled with feigned innocence. “The lute is…hot?”

Geralt felt his face instantly heat up. “That’s… that’s not what I meant.” He stammered. Although Jaskier wasn’t entirely wrong. He’d had more than a few dreams about Jaskier playing his instruments and wondering what else those talented fingers could do. 

“Relax, Geralt!” Jaskier laughed. “I’m just messing with you.”

Geralt’s heart sank.

Of course. Jaskier wouldn’t actually be flirting with him. It was unprofessional. Jaskier was his daughter’s teacher. Why did he keep forgetting that?

“Just because I’m bisexual, doesn’t mean I’m out to get everyone.” Jaskier added with a smirk as they reached Jaskier’s familiar buttercup covered door. 

Geralt laughed anxiously, still worrying about his growing attachment to the teacher. He hadn’t had a crush in ages. Of course it would be just his luck that his first real crush since Yen would be someone that was so unobtainable. Perhaps he had a type, unobtainable. He frowned. He was no good at this. “Good to know. So, Ciri?” He muttered trying to get the conversation back on track before he messed up any further.

Jaskier nodded but the light fell from his eyes. Geralt knew instantly that he’d fucked up. Jaskier must have misread his anger at himself as a reaction to Jaskier’s revelation. If anything the complete opposite was true. Jaskier was attracted to men. That meant that there was a possibility that Jaskier could me attracted to him. 

If he only he wasn’t Ciri’s teacher.

“Ciri! Yes. Of course. It’s why we’re here of course. Take a seat, Mr Rivia.”

Mr Rivia. 

Jaskier hadn’t called him that since the first day of school. 

Oh he’d really fucked up. 

* * *

Geralt was only half listening to Jaskier. His mind was spiralling in panic. He squirmed in his seat as the blue-eyed teacher scrutinised him. He nodded when appropriated and hummed and grunted his way through Jaskier’s monologue about Ciri’s progress in class. He already knew most of it. Jaskier never failed to send an email at the end of the week with a brief update and Ciri herself never stopped talking about how great school was. He’d been looking forward to parents’ evening all term though and then promptly fucked up before they’d even really started talking. 

Firstly he’d acted like a complete brute before even getting to the school hall. He was probably lucky that Mr Foltest wasn’t pressing charges against him. They police had convinced the man that it wouldn’t hold up in any court due to the circumstances before Geralt had picked the man up by his shirt. 

Then they’d had an easy banter that was borderline flirtatious but Geralt had effectively shut that one down with his own nerves and insecurities. 

And now Jaskier had thrown walls up. He’d called him Mr Rivia throughout the meeting and was almost clinical in his professionalism. 

Geralt had never seen him so cold before. 

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. 

“Jaskier.”

The teacher silenced and raised an eyebrow at him. “Problem, Mr Rivia?”

“Yes.” Geralt shook his head. “No. Ah fuck. Yes but not you.”

“I’m listening.”

Geralt stood up. He’d been sat still too long and it was making him skittish. He hated sitting still. It was part of the reason he’d never gone for a desk job. It would never have suited him. He needed to be moving. Always on the move, never sitting still. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier pressed. 

“I, umm, Ciri wanted me to tell you something.” Geralt cursed at his own idiocy. Now he was just stalling. 

Jaskier deflated in his seat but gestured for him to go ahead.

“She says that you’re a better singer than I am.” Geralt grumbled, barely audible.

Jaskier had the decency to laugh at that despite his anger at Geralt. “She has taste.”

“Yeah.” Geralt agreed. “She does.”

“Well, if that’s everything?” Jaskier said shuffling the paperwork in front of him and stop up to leave the room.

“No.” Geralt shook his head. “I’m. I’m sorry.”

“For?” Jaskier asked with a suspiciously glint in his eyes. 

“You trusted me.” Geralt started to say, struggling to find the words. “And I reacted badly.”

“You did.” Jaskier nodded. “But you aren’t the first, Geralt, and you certainly won’t be the last. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. You’d be surprised how many complaints I get from parents when I dare mention to their little darlings that some children have two dads or two mums. Marilka’s mother came storming in in a rage and said that I was irresponsible for teaching kids that it was possible to have more than two parents. That was encouraging kids to cheat on their future partners. That it would be my fault when Marilka couldn’t find a husband. Apparently suggesting that she might find a wife was the wrong thing to say to that.”

Jaskier sighed wearily and ran his hand through his hair. The gesture distracted Geralt as he watched his nimble fingers tug at the soft brown strands of hair. 

“The headmaster has called me to the office multiple times because of it but I refuse to bend to his heteronormative way of thinking. The kids deserve to know how beautifully diverse the world can be. It’s not something to be ashamed about and I won’t hide who I am.” 

“Right.” Geralt nodded as he gathered his courage. After Jaskier’s display of inner strength Geralt knew it was his turn. He didn’t talk about his sexuality very often. Most people assumed he was straight and he was happy to let them. It was easier than having to keep correcting them when they spoke about girlfriends and wives. He took a deep breath. He had to fix this. “You were right.”

“About what?” Jaskier asked him with a hand on his hip. 

“The lute. It’s pretty hot.” Geralt laughed nervously. 

Jaskier dropped papers that were in his hands and then jumped at his own clumsiness. 

“Oh cock! Fuck. Sorry!” He put his hands up in defence and then dropped to his knees to collect his stuff. “That was inappropriate sorry! I am usually better at keeping my language PG at work.” 

Geralt chuckled and knelt down to help the suddenly flustered teacher. “Relax, Jask. We’re both adults. I don’t mind if you swear.” 

Jaskier blushed prettily and looked up at Geralt through his eyelashes. Had they always been that long or was Geralt just blind? 

“Adults. Right. Well.” Jaskier spluttered and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s been wonderful, Geralt. I’d love to talk more but well. I have another parent and I’m already behind because of the incident earlier.”

Geralt stood up and helped Jaskier to his feet, relishing in the feel of Jaskier’s hand on his arm. He had a strong grip. Geralt filed that information away for later. He’d always thought of Jaskier as a much smaller man but in reality he was barely an inch shorter than he was and clearly stronger than he looked, and that only made him more attractive to Geralt. 

“Of course.” Geralt nodded ignoring the way his heart ached in his chest. “I need to get home to Ciri. I promised her a bedtime story. It’s probably already too late.” He sighed as he glanced at his watch. “Fuck.” 

Jaskier tilted his head and flashed Geralt a smile. “You know, Geralt, if you ever have any concerns about Ciri or the school or anything like that. We could…” Jaskier paused thoughtfully and licked his lips. “I don’t know, schedule a meeting? I’d be happy to sit down with you and work that out.”

Geralt frowned as he tried to work out Jaskier’s words. “I thought you said Ciri was doing well.”

Jaskier sighed and rolled his eyes. “She is.” He nodded. “Very well but we’re out of time to talk about it now. So I’m saying, if you ever want to discuss this further.”

The penny dropped and Geralt smirked. 

“I understand.” Geralt nodded. “She’s pretty serious about learning the guitar. Maybe we could talk about that another time? Make sure she’s getting the right instrument?”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up. “Excellent idea, my friend!” 

“Friend?” Geralt raised an eyebrow, he hadn’t realised they were friends. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. He tried to ignore it. He wanted to be friends with Jaskier, he wanted more but being his friend was a step in the right direction.

Jaskier chuckled. “I can be friends with parents.” 

Friends.

That word again.

And the tone of Jaskier’s voice left Geralt feeling uneasy. The way he said the word friend. Like he was telling Geralt they couldn’t be anything more.

Had Geralt misinterpreted Jaskier’s easy flirtations?

Maybe this was how Jaskier was with everyone?

He’d certainly bantered with Ms Merigold but that wasn’t flirting… Was it?

Fuck.

This was why Geralt had stayed single after Yen.

Yen was very direct with what she wanted and Geralt had found her brutal honesty almost refreshing. He’d always struggled to know when people were flirting with him, never really believing that he deserved it. 

Jaskier’s hand cupped his cheek. 

“Hey?” 

Geralt blinked out of his thoughts to see Jaskier staring back at him. 

“We lost you for a minute there.” Jaskier chuckled quietly and then sighed. “I _like_ you Geralt.”

Well if that wasn’t mixed signals he didn’t know what was. 

He hummed noncommittally waiting to see what Jaskier had to say. 

“Mr Pankratz!!” The headmaster stormed into the room. 

They broke apart quickly before Stregobor managed to assess the situation. “I understand there was an incident in reception earlier but that does not mean you are allowed to shirk your duties. Mr Rivia, my apologies but unless Mr Pankratz wants to be here until midnight then I’m afraid I have to cut this short.”

Geralt nodded. “Of course. We were just wrapping up.” 

“Sorry sir.” Jaskier nodded. “Remember Geralt, any concerns. Let me know.”

“I will.” Geralt nodded as Jaskier all but ran from the classroom. 

Stregobor raised an eyebrow at him. “Anything I should know about, Mr Rivia? You know I only care about giving our children the best education. If Mr Pankratz isn’t the best fit for Cirilla—”

“He is.” Geralt said firmly. “We’re just worried about Ciri’s past. Jaskier has been an excellent teacher.”

“Hmm. Well that is surprising.” Stregobor leered at him. 

“I don’t lie.” Geralt growled. “Now if you don’t mind. I’ve had a long evening. I need to get home to my daughter.”

“Of course. Goodbye Mr Rivia.” 

Geralt found his way back to his truck easily. Luckily the rain had stopped by the time he left the school building. He grimaced at the car parked next to his. That had been the cause of all his problems.

Then again he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to talk to Jaskier in private without it. 

He laughed and patted the car. “Guess I should probably thank your asshole owner after all.”

The car alarm started to blare out. 

“Fuck!” Geralt jumped into his own vehicle and fled, laughing to himself at the ridiculousness of it all as he drove back home to Ciri. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo parents' evening feat flirty banter times. 
> 
> I loved writing this chapter so I hope you enjoyed it. Next POV is Tissaia. 
> 
> Come hang on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) where I mostly cry about Geraskier, Joey Batey and TAD. 
> 
> \- Yaz


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Tissaia's POV, and actually one of the reasons I wrote this fic to begin with. I was sad that there wasn't more of the other characters in fics. I love Tissaia and you very rarely see her in Geraskier fic. So.... this fic was born, and it's why the POV changes. I like exploring different characters, it helps to push me as a writer I think and helps me to really understand my background characters. :D
> 
> TW: Alcohol again and mentions of hangovers.

It was the weekend. 

Finally. 

The year was barrelling towards the winter holidays faster than a river crashing over a waterfall. The children were all getting excited for the holiday season and decorations had been cropping up around the school. Tissaia had kept her classroom bare. The students had been allowed to decorate their lockers but the art classroom needed to remain a blank canvas. The addition of tinsel and fairy lights caused unnecessary distraction to her creative process. Her work was methodical and a way for her to organise the chaos in her mind. The decorations around the winter months caused her thoughts to spiral and her anxiety would become almost unbearable. 

She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath, counting the beats in her head and then exhaled. She pictured the tension in her shoulders washing away like footprints in the sand. She repeated the process again until her thoughts quietened down. By the time she opened her eyes all thoughts of the brightly coloured school halls had flittered away. 

She grabbed her notebook from her purse and began to sketch the trees outside of the coffee shop window. She noted the way the sunlight broke through the branches and danced on the pavement below, the way the bark shimmered in the bright morning sunshine and yet fell into dark gloomy shadows. 

She’d always been fascinated by light in her art. The way something so untouchable could completely change the colour and shape of an object. Things that seemed terrible in the darkness were harmless in the light. It was honestly magical and she would never get tired of trying to capture the beauty of the phenomena on paper. 

“Tissaia?” 

Her charcoal skidded across the paper as she started at the sound of her name. 

Her sketch was ruined. 

Yennefer’s violet eyes were shining down on her, her signature raven black hair tumbling down past her shoulders. She had two small coffee cups in her hands. 

She sighed and carefully put her charcoal away. She tore the page from her notebook with practiced ease and folded it in half. She would put it in the recycling the next time she went past a bin. 

“Yennefer.” She greeted her former student with a smile as she straightened out the sleeves of her shirt. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I’m visiting Ciri.” Yennefer nodded to the till where the young girl was taking a paper bag from the barista. 

She raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “She insisted that she bought her own cake. Honestly, Tissaia I’m not an idiot.”

“I never said you were.” 

“You implied it.” Yennefer muttered sharply under her breath.

“Yennefer.” Tissaia sighed and picked up her now cold mug of coffee. “Must we always fight?”

Yennefer laughed at that. “Just like the good old days.”

“I was tough on you because I saw talent. You know that.” She grimaced as she sipped her drink. This always happened when she started drawing but she didn’t want to waste her money by not drinking it. 

“Auntie Yen!” Ciri came bounding over clutching the paper bag. “I got a chocolate brownie! It has glitter on it!”

“You already have a hot chocolate?” Yennefer asked holding up one of the cups.

“Yup!” Ciri grinned gleefully. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “You’ll turn into a chocolate if you’re not careful.” 

“No I won’t!” Ciri shook her head. “I asked Mr Jaskier and he said that adults just say that so you won’t eat so much!”

Tissaia smiled as she sipped her coffee. Yennefer looked ready to strike down the younger teacher. Her violet eyes flashed dangerously and she ran her hand through her hair. “Of course he did. Do you know why adults say that?”

Ciri scowled and scrunched up her nose. “Nope!”

“It’s because chocolate is a treat and we should only eat it some of the time. If we ate it all the time then it wouldn’t be special anymore.” Yennefer tried to explain. “Right?” 

Tissaia nodded. “She's right.”

Ciri tilted her head at the explanation and narrowed her eyes at Tissaia. “So you lie?”

Tissaia looked at Yennefer who was staring right back at her. 

This was why neither of them taught the younger tutor groups. 

“Think of it more like a story.” A new voice chimed brightly. 

Yennefer groaned as Ciri spun around excitably.

“Mr Jaskier!!” 

“Hello, Ciri. Yennefer, Ms de Vries.” Jaskier waved cheerfully. “Adult sometimes tell stories as a way to teach children about the good and bad things of the world, like eating too much chocolate.”

“Like when mummy lions pretend to be scared when the baby lions jump on them?” Ciri asked. 

“That’s right!” Jaskier grinned. 

“What are you doing here, Buttercup?” Yennefer raised an eyebrow at the brunet. 

“Getting coffee?” Jaskier held up his own coffee mug which was covered in a gooey caramel syrup. “Heard they were doing special editions for the holidays and I just love edible glitter.” 

Tissaia closed her eyes to try and focussed on her breathing to try and block out the conversation. She had come to the small coffee shop for some well earned peace and quiet. It was part of her weekend routine to help her relax after a week of teaching. She had been coming to the coffee shop every Saturday for years now. 

“Tissaia?” Yennefer’s voice again. 

“Yennefer” She answered, not opening her eyes, her fingers finding the cuffs of her sleeves with practiced ease. 

She heard a shuffle of movement and the excitable voices of Ciri and Jaskier moved away. With a final deep breath she opened her eyes to find Yennefer still staring down at her. Jaskier and Ciri were sat at a nearby table away from her.

“I’m sorry, Tissaia. I didn’t mean to interrupt. When I’ve dropped Ciri back at Geralt’s we can catch up properly.” Yennefer suggested. 

“You can tell me all about that blog of yours.” She agreed. 

“Like you don’t follow me already.” Yennefer teased gently. 

“I’d still like to hear it from you.” She countered, and it was true. She had always followed Yennefer’s ascent into the art world with great interest. She was proud to see her prodigy blossom into a fierce and talented young woman. It was a dream come true to see someone so brilliant succeed and as teacher she bristled with pride to know her student was flying amongst the stars, but mostly she had received all this information second hand through Yennefer’s blog or from Triss and Istredd in the staffroom. It would be nice to hear it from her friend in person for a change. 

“Always so sentimental.” Yennefer smirked and then turned back to her ward. “Ciri, leave Mr Jaskier alone. It’s time to meet up with your father.” 

“Mr Jaskier can come too!” Ciri suggested. 

Tissaia watched the young teacher carefully. It was no secret that Jaskier, amongst others, had a crush on Geralt Rivia. Jaskier and Triss were often found gossiping happily in the corner of the staffroom about how handsome the man was. Tissaia didn’t exactly agree, not that she really found anyone attractive, but the mindless conversation was an entertaining break from teaching and marking. 

However, having a harmless crush on a parent was very different from actively dating a parent, especially when their child was in your class. That was frowned upon to say the least. Stregobor would certainly have no qualms about firing Jaskier if he thought there was even a shadow of a doubt in the man’s conduct at work. 

Jaskier froze.

His face lit up like a tomato.

And then he promptly threw his coffee all over the table he had sat down at. 

“Oh chocolate fudge cakes!” He yelled and jumped back. Ciri squealed and leapt back to avoid the hot liquid. “I am so sorry Ciri. Did it get you?”

Ciri shook her head but seemed a little confused by Jaskier’s sudden clumsiness. “I’m ok.”

“Good. Good. No harm done then. I’ll just get some napkins to clean up this mess. You’d better run along now with your Aunt Yennefer. I bet your dad will be very excited to see you.” Jaskier was talking faster than a rocket as he scooped up his now sodden notebook off the table and look forlornly at the empty mug. 

Ciri frowned. “I see him every day.”

“Well then you are a very lucky girl. I will see you on Monday in class. Don’t forget to bring in your favourite story. We’ll be sharing them after lunch.” Jaskier rambled in a hurry and then scurried away to find some cleaning supplies. 

Tissaia sighed as the young girl was dragged from the coffee shop, still grasping her paper bag that contained her chocolatey treat. 

Jaskier was playing a dangerous game and it was likely going to end in heartbreak. She really hoped he knew what he was doing. 

* * *

Tissaia sunk down onto her sofa wearily. After the chaos of the her usual quiet time at the coffee shop her thoughts had been racing and she struggled to regain control of her own heartbeat. She’d tried to paint various objects from around her house. She’d started with her plants then moved onto an assortment of candles, but she’d not quite managed to capture the way the flames flickered and glowed on the paper and she’d only ended up more frustrated than when she’d started. 

After that she’d decided to clear up her kitchen. She’d been too tired during the week and the mess had begun to build up. It had taken longer than she’d expected but as she’d cleaned and organised her kitchen she’d felt her thoughts follow suit. Her feet were now aching and her arms were sore. She’d sleep well tonight.

She hummed happily as she poured herself a glass of red wine. She took a deep breath as she inhaled the swirling lavender scent from her candles. There were no children and she was at peace. It wasn’t that she hated the children. She loved her job really, she loved bringing light and art to a whole new generation of brilliant young minds. She loved their vivid imaginations and endless enthusiasm for the beauty in the world, but by the end of the week she was always emotionally drained. She had considered giving up teaching full time and offering private lessons, or spending more time on her own work and commissions but the stability teaching gave held her back. 

She’d just picked up her book when her phone rang. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Apparently nothing was going her way today. She checked the caller ID. It was Yennefer. She clicked the green button and put the phone on speaker. 

“Hello Yennefer.” She answered, trying to keep the fatigue from her voice. 

“Tissaia. I’m outside. Let me in.” Yennefer asked, if you could really call it a question. 

She considered leaving her outside but Yennefer was like family to her after all these years. She hung up the phone and smoothed down her skirt before opening the door. Yennefer was stood holding a large rectangular brown paper package under her arm. She was wearing black jeans that looked like they’d been vacuumed onto her body they were so tight, a plain white t-shirt with cropped leather jacket. God forbid that Yennefer ever wear colour. Tissaia gestured for her to come inside. 

“A little warning wouldn’t go amiss, Yennefer.” Tissaia chided gently. 

“A warning gives you the chance to say no.” Yennefer countered. “I don’t come back that often, Tissaia. I wanted to see you properly before I left.”

She nodded. “Wine?” 

“Please.” Yennefer grinned. “I brought you something.” She added once Tissaia had poured out a second glass of wine and they’d settled down onto the sofa together. 

Tissaia raised an eyebrow at the parcel that was propped up against the wall. She’d seen enough canvases in her time to recognise one even through brown paper. 

“What’s the occasion?” 

“Does there have to be an occasion?” Yennefer challenged but rolled her eyes at the look she received for her question. The two of them were friends, almost like mother and daughter, but that didn’t mean they always had an easy friendship, and surprise presents were certainly unusual, especially from Yennefer. “The Solstice is coming up, an apology for earlier, a thank you for convincing Stregobor to let Ciri into the school. Take your pick.”

Tissaia paused mid sip of her wine, touched by Yennefer’s display of thoughtfulness. She smiled at her younger friend and put her glass down so that she could open the parcel. The pulled the tape off the corners of the present, careful not to damage the canvas hidden beneath the paper and peeled back the edges of the wrapping. The painting was bright and bold and fiery, everything that screamed Yennefer, but there was a strange calmness around the edges of the painting like waves lapping at the sand. 

Yennefer shuffled awkwardly and took a long swig of her wine. “It’s not your usual style, I know that. It probably would look completely out of place with the rest of your house so I don’t expect you to hang it up but it’s yours, a Vengerberg original.” 

Yennefer wasn’t wrong. The chaos that exuded from all of Yennefer’s artwork would clash horrible with the carefully cultivated tranquility of Tissaia’s house but that didn’t stop a wave of unbridled emotion from rising up in her chest. 

“It’s beautiful.” She wanted to trace the swirls of colour with her finger but resisted. She didn’t want to damage the brushwork. “I’ll find a place for it. Everything has its place. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Yennefer brushed off her praise with a wave of her hand. “So did I tell you what the owner of Aedirn said about my last article?” 

Tissaia smirked. She’d met Virfuril once or twice at galas and she’d quickly realised he was a misogynistic racist prick. He cared more about an artist’s appearance, and social standing than about their art. His gallery was full of art made solely by young straight white women. Diversity was not a word that featured in the man’s vocabulary. 

Yennefer had called him out on it in her last review, challenging him to feature work by black artists, artists of all different races, sexualities, genders, ages, religions. She’d spoken out about how her own art had been pulled from the gallery, whilst she was still studying at university, once Virfuril had realised Yennefer’s own diverse background after pictures of her childhood and her grandfather had been leaked during her last year at the university. 

The younger artist hadn’t known any better back in university. She’d used her privilege to her own advantage without even realising. It had taken Yennefer years to realise that her voice mattered, especially with a growing platform where more and more people were listening to her every day. Now she stood tall and proud, not letting a single person pull her down because of her race, gender or disabilities. Tissaia imagined Virfuril didn’t take too kindly to her just attack but she was immensely proud of her friend. She swirled her wine gently in her glass before deciding she needed a top up.

“You didn’t.” She replied to her friend. “But I can only imagine it was as dull and pathetic as his gallery.”

Yennefer laughed and launched into her story. Tissaia felt herself relaxing as she listened to Yennefer’s scathing remarks and gleeful retelling of how the Aedirn was beginning to lose credibility. It had been a long day but she was glad that her friend had visited. It turned out to be exactly what she needed after a week of teaching children. 

* * *

The coffee shop encounter played on Tissaia’s mind intermittently for the rest of the weekend. It was never easy meeting the children outside of school. Most of the younger students were convinced that the teachers lived at the school and never seemed to understand why their teachers were suddenly infiltrating their weekend lives. Ciri had taken meeting Jaskier in the coffee shop in her stride and she assumed that was down to Yennefer’s influence, her young friend had become a sort of mother figure in Ciri’s life. Ciri hadn’t seemed to have recognised Tissaia outside of school but that was probably for the best. 

That being said, Tissaia couldn’t stop replaying the entire scenario in her head. 

Ciri’s excitement when Jaskier had arrived was not unusual, especially for the younger pupils. Jaskier’s classes always adored him and even the older years still greeted him fondly after they’d left his class, but for her to invite her teacher along to meet her father. 

That was…odd. 

She sighed as she picked up her register from Triss. 

“Morning Ms de Vries.” Triss mumbled. 

Tissaia raised an eyebrow at the receptionist’s appearance. Her hair was impossibly wilder than usual and she had bags under her eyes. The young girl was gripping onto her coffee mug as if it were a lifeline. 

“Ms Merigold.” She greeted. “Late night?”

“Yennefer wanted to catch up. I always forget how much wine that woman can drink.” Triss groaned. 

“Hungover on a Monday morning? How professional.” 

Triss fixed her with a glare. “Not a word to the headmaster.” She hissed. 

Tissaia pulled a packet of painkillers from her purse and slid them across the desk. “My lips are sealed.”

“Oh thank god.” Triss grabbed the tablets eagerly. “Yen didn’t have any in her cupboard. I swear she’s inhuman.”

“You stayed the night?” 

“Not a word!” Triss squeaked.

Tissaia smirked at the younger girl. “You should have checked her purse. You know she keeps her painkillers on her. Oh and Triss?”

“What?”

“Try and perk up before the students arrive. You look like death.”

“Always so kind.” Triss mumbled but knocked back the rest of her coffee. 

She tucked the register under her arm and started to make her way to her classroom. She was about halfway there when she stopped. The memory of the coffee shop came rushing back and she spun round on her heels towards the primary school block. It was always easy to tell if Jaskier was in early. The telltale sound of music echoed down the corridor. She grimaced. The sound was not Jaskier’s best. It reminded her of the school’s end of year concerts where all the children were expected to sing and most of them couldn’t quite hold a note. It was probably a new instrument for the young teacher and he clearly hadn’t mastered the basics yet. 

She smoothed down the edges of her shirt and then knocked on the bright yellow door. 

“Come in!” Jaskier sang from inside. 

She took a deep breath and walked into the classroom. She raised her eyebrow and the finger paintings that were pinned up on washing lines on the ceiling. Jaskier was a brilliant musician and wordsmith but his art skills needed work. No wonder the children that came through into secondary school had the artistic talent of an earthworm.

“Mr Pankratz.” She greeted him with a nod. 

He jumped off the desk he was sitting on with a start, clearly expecting a different visitor. He placed the strange guitar like instrument on the floor carefully. “Ms de Vries! What can I do for you?” 

“Can we talk about Ciri?” 

Jaskier visibly paled. “Ciri? What’s wrong with her?”

“Sit down, Jaskier.” She gestured to his chair behind the desk at the front of the classroom. 

Instead he jumped back onto the desk itself, clearly the man was allergic to chairs. She very rarely saw him sitting in one properly. She bristled and took a deep breath. 

“So…” He ran a hand through his hair and looked distractedly out of the window. “Ciri?”

“Why would she ask you to meet Geralt?” 

Jaskier laughed nervously. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Who wants you to meet her father outside of school?” 

“Well… umm. Yes but I swear that has nothing to do with me! Maybe Geralt, Mr Rivia, has said something at home.” Jaskier blushed and then cleared his throat. “Don’t know why he would though. I’m just a lowly teacher and he’s this…” Jaskier gesticulated wildly, “this godlike hero.”

Tissaia raised an eyebrow. 

“And by the gods he is beautiful. I do wonder whether his hair is naturally that colour. It’s like he’s captured the moonbeams and woven them into strands of hair.” Jaskier sighed wistfully. 

“Mr Pankratz.” She cut him off sharply. “I hope you know what Stregobor would do if he heard you talking like this. It’s a wonder that Mr Marx hasn’t fed your conversations with Triss back to him.”

Jaskier flushed. “That man is a no good, snotty faced piece of sh—”

“Jaskier!” She cut him off. 

“Sugar farts.” He finished. 

“Sugar farts?” She chuckled. 

“Not my best work I know.” He sighed dramatically and swung his legs up and laid back on the desk. “You know the only reason he hasn’t ratted me out is because he fancies Triss and he knows that he can’t get me in trouble without getting her into trouble”

“I’m aware.” Tissaia nodded. “Sometimes I wonder who the real children are in this school.” She muttered under her breath. 

“Well that’s rude.” Jaskier huffed. 

“Just be careful. Whatever is going on with you and Mr Rivia, you need to remain professional. He’s Ciri’s father.” Tissaia reminded him gently. “You’re a good teacher, Jaskier. I don’t want you to lose your head over this. It would hurt Ciri to lose you as her teacher and God only knows that girl has been through enough.”

Jaskier groaned into his hands. “Bollocks.”

“Julian.” She warned. 

“Seriously fuck it all. It’s not fair.” He moaned. 

She sighed. “And that’s the hardest lesson of all.”

The bell rang and Jaskier leapt off the desk and scooped up his instrument, putting it back in its case. “Yes well. Thank you for that inspiring lesson, Ms de Vries. Now if you could kindly fuck off.”

“Jaskier.” She sighed.

“Before the kids arrive. I have work to do.” He turned away from her. 

She nodded and brushed down her skirt. It had been the right thing to do. She was fond of Jaskier. She wanted to protect him, to prevent him from making a mistake. It didn’t make her a bad person. He was just hurting but this would be better in the long run. She went to open the door but almost fell through as it was opened from the other side. 

Geralt Rivia was standing, shocked, in the doorway. 

“Mr Rivia?” She stammered before regaining her composure. She spun round to see Jaskier blushing brightly behind his instrument case. “Everything alright?”

Geralt nodded curtly. “Just wanted to ask Mr Pankratz a question about Ciri’s guitar lessons whilst she’s in the loo.” 

“Ah yes. The guitar lessons. Have you found a teacher yet? I have a few names to recommend!” Jaskier replied quickly. 

“Not yet.” Geralt shook his head. 

“Right.” Tissaia hummed thoughtfully. “Have a good day.”

She fled from the room swiftly, glaring at the streams of fairy lights that littered the corridors. The intermittent flashing was giving her a headache already and the day had barely started. Her grip tightened on her bag as she made her way to her classroom. 

“Guitar lessons.” She muttered under her breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What utter nonsense.” She heard the shouts of children coming from her classroom and rolled her eyes. It was far too early to be dealing with fighting on a Monday morning. She burst into her class, her skirt billowing out behind her. “Right!” She called loudly grabbing the attention of the few children that had already arrived. “Settle down!”

The students grumbled but the shouting faded to hushed chatter. 

She pulled the register out of her bag and sat at her desk. 

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact. I've almost finished writing this one now! Probably only another couple of chapters to go. So expect to see a chapter count on this soon! :D Probably around twenty five? Probably just over 100k.
> 
> Any hoo! I'm not sure what's up next. I have a couple of fics completed and ready to post, and the last chapter of The Witcher, The Bard and Their Guardian Angel. I also have a couple more prompts ready to write but I love getting them so come chat on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com) :D 
> 
> If you like it let me know what you think! :D
> 
> \- Yaz


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm... Happy Solstice??? I probably should have timed this better, but it's what you're getting! I present Lambert's POV!

The winter holidays were a chaotic affair for the wolf pack. Since their own families were a mess it had become tradition to come together as a team and spend the Solstice as one big found family. This year was extra special because it was Ciri’s first winter with them and her first without her own family. This year was Lambert’s turn to host and he was going to make damned sure it was the best Solstice that the team had ever had. 

The only problem was his cooking skills. 

Cooking had never been his strong point. 

When he’d lived with his brother, Eskel had done most of the cooking in the house and had developed quite a passion for it. So Lambert, like any good younger sibling, had quite happily taken advantage of every second of it. Of course, once living together had reached boiling point and they’d decided it was best for everyone to move apart, Lambert’s quality of diet had dropped considerably. He now lived on ready meals and takeaways most of the time, unless Eskel took pity on him, which happened on a fairly regular basis. 

He stared at the cook book in front of him. The woman on front was smiling brightly in a sunlit kitchen and holding a ridiculously picturesque pie. 

“Fuck it.” Lambert growled as he flipped through the pages to the right section. 

He’d brought all the right ingredients and he’d carefully written down all the timings for everything, just like he’d seen Eskel do in the past. He read through the recipe for the roast lamb a couple more times before tying an apron round his waist and pulling his hair back into a bun. 

“Cooking. I can do this. Easy as pie!” He grumbled as he pulled the ingredients from the fridge. 

Today was all about prep, chopping veg and potatoes ready for cooking tomorrow, baking cookies for snacks during the day. He was also making an onion soup to start with that could be reheated tomorrow. He grabbed his peeler and stared down at the sack of potatoes. 

There were so many fucking potatoes.

He was going to be here all day. 

He should probably ask for help. Eskel always called him and Renfri round to help chop shit up. 

“Fuck off, I don’t need help.” He grumbled and got to work with the potatoes. 

He was about three potatoes in when he decided he was going to die of boredom. He washed the starch off his hands and put on some music. The sound of acoustic guitar filled the kitchen. It was some unknown folk band that he’d discovered online by chance, called Dandelion and the Bards. The two lead singers Dandelion and Priscilla harmonised so perfectly that it was like they’d almost been born to sing together. 

He spent the next hour or so dancing around his kitchen with the potato peeler and singing along to the songs. The music was so loud he almost didn’t hear the doorbell. He paused, turned the music off and dumped the potato in the bucket of water. 

The doorbell went off another three times in quick succession. 

Eskel.

“I’m coming you ass!” He called out as the doorbell continued to ring. 

He swung the door open with more force than necessary and glared at his brother who was grinning back at him. Geralt was stood behind him with Ciri perched on his shoulders. Geralt raised an eyebrow at his appearance and Lambert looked down at his starch covered apron. He huffed but didn’t say anything, for Ciri’s sake.

“Ah Ciri! Hello little lion cub!” He waved the peeler at the young girl and then paused. “Wait. What day is it?”

“Don’t panic, you big lump. We’re here to help.” Eskel pulled him into a hug and thumped him on the back. 

“Oh. Yeah. Well I have it all under control.” He growled. 

“Nice singing.” Geralt said with a smirk.

He felt his cheeks heat up, damned ginger complexion. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Sooo… what’s the plan of attack?” Eskel asked as he pushed through into the house. “Apart from putting the heating on. It’s freezing in here!”

Lambert shrugged. “Kitchen’s hot.”

The four of them made their back into the kitchen. Eskel pulled out a bundle of aprons from his rucksack and a cloth carrier that contained his set of actually sharp knives. It took about three minutes to delegate the tasks between the four of them. Eskel was in charge of marinading the lamb and making sure it was properly trimmed and ready to go in the oven. Lambert was to finish the potatoes and start on the veg. Geralt and Ciri would be on cookies. It was a tad cramped in his kitchen with all four of them working together and they almost crashed into each other at every turn but they were laughing and chatting away. 

It was actually sort of fun. 

He was starting to understand why Eskel enjoyed cooking so much. 

They sorted out a game plan for the next day. Eskel went through his list of times and corrected any mistakes. Honestly, how was he supposed to know you were meant to let the lamb rest out of the oven after cooking. Surely that just made the food go cold. He hated cold food but Eskel insisted it would be ok but they had to make sure the plates were heated. In the morning Ciri and Lambert would make cinnamon buns together for team breakfast, Eskel would be in charge of the savoury snacks and salad, and Geralt would make the mulled wine and hot spiced apple juice for Ciri. 

That way Lambert wouldn’t be stuck in the kitchen for the whole day and he’d actually get to spend some time with the wolf pack. He breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed down onto the sofa with a beer in his hand. Ciri was sat by his feet with a glass of chocolate milk and Geralt and Eskel were lounged out on the arm chairs. 

“See that wasn’t so bad.” Eskel grinned. 

“I would have been fine.” He growled back. 

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Seemed like you were having a party in there before we arrived.”

He shrugged. “I like to cook to music.”

Eskel almost choked on his beer. “You don’t like to cook.”

He growled. “I do too!”

“You never once cooked!”

“Only because I knew you liked it so much!” He shot back. 

“I had fun!” Ciri announced loudly. “Even if Dad did drop flour in my hair.”

“Sorry, Princess.” Geralt grumbled. 

“It’s ok! I blame Uncle Lambert! He crashed into you.”

Geralt laughed. “I blame Uncle Lambert too.”

“So what was the music you were listening to, Uncle Lambert?” Ciri asked as she wiped chocolate milk off her nose. 

Lambert chuckled as she scrunched her nose up. She still managed to miss a huge smear of chocolate that was on her cheek. He wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to get chocolate that far away from her mouth. Geralt sighed at went to the kitchen to get a damp cloth to help her clean up. 

“A band I found on the internet.” Lambert smiled. “You wanna hear some of their stuff?”

Ciri nodded enthusiastically. “Yes please! Dad get off!” She squirmed as Geralt attacked her with the kitchen roll. 

“Mucky cub.” He laughed. 

“I can do it myself!” She squealed and grabbed for the paper towel. Geralt let her take it and she scrubbed ferociously at her face until she was sure it was all clean. “Good?”

“Perfect.” He ruffled her hair fondly and she grumbled under her breath like an angry kitten. 

Lambert went to get his phone so he could put his music back on. The melodic tones of Dandelion’s guitar filled the room. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Eskel chirped up. 

“Thought you liked the heavy metal stuff.” 

Lambert shrugged. “I’m a man of many tastes.”

“I like it!” Ciri agreed. “Sounds like Mr Jaskier’s playing.”

Eskel and Lambert both rolled their eyes at that. They heard enough about Jaskier from Geralt at work. They had almost forgotten that it was all because Ciri was just as fond of her teacher. 

The first song was sung almost entirely by Priscilla. It was a soft heartbreaking number that always left him feeling emotionally strung out. It was only about halfway through that he remembered the cursing and he coughed loudly over the swear words earning a glare from Geralt. Ciri didn’t seem to notice though, thankfully.

The next song began just as quietly on the guitar but this was one of Dandelion’s. The moment he started to sing, Ciri began to scream excitedly and Geralt spat a mouthful of beer out onto the floor. 

“Mr Jaskier!!” Ciri shrieked.

“Calm down, Cub.” Geralt spluttered. “I’m sure it just sounds like him.”

Lambert and Eskel exchanged a despairing look. 

“No!” Ciri stomped. “It is him!” 

Geralt looked at Lambert with a fierce glare. “What the hell, Lambert?”

He put his hands up in defence. “Woah now. I didn’t know anything about Ciri’s teacher.”

“Jaskier isn’t exactly a common name.” Geralt challenged angrily. 

“Exactly!” Lambert cried. “It’s not Jaskier!”

“It is!” Ciri demanded with tears welling up in her eyes. 

“Well what’s the band called?” Eskel asked as he scooped Ciri up into a hug. 

“Dandelion and the Bards!” Lambert exclaimed. “Not Jaskier. The guy singing is Dandelion.”

“No!!” Ciri cried. 

“Ciri, Princess.” Geralt said calmly and tried to smooth the young girl’s hair as she squirmed in Eskel’s arms. 

“No!!” She repeated. 

Lambert sighed and turned the music off. “I’m sorry Ciri. It doesn’t say anything about any Jaskier.” 

But it didn’t matter. Ciri was having a meltdown. No matter what they did or said helped her to calm down and in the end Geralt had to bundle the screaming girl into the car with the promise that they would email Mr Jaskier about the band. Eskel left soon afterwards with the excuse that his goat needed feeding and Lambert was left alone once more. 

“Ah blessed peace.” He sighed happily as he watched Eskel amble down the road towards his own house. 

* * *

For the second day in the row, Lambert’s kitchen was covered in flour. Ciri’s hair was now as white as her father’s and her fingers were covered in sticky cinnamon sugar. Lambert’s shirt was covered in tiny floury handprints from where Ciri had hug attacked him, her tantrum from the previous day now a distant memory. He’d reluctantly made sure to uncheck all of Dandelion’s songs from his Solstice playlist. He would miss the calming melodies of his favourite band but it was not worth another screaming match from the youngest wolf cub. 

Ciri was dancing happily in the middle of the kitchen. She twirled and leapt about effortlessly with all the energy of a six year old. She was incredibly graceful and Lambert wondered whether Geralt had secretly enrolled her in some sort of dance lessons. That was a thing girls did right? He groaned as he thought about his present for Ciri. He’d probably completely fucked up. He’d bought her a wooden sword and matching bow and arrow set, something he’d always wanted as a kid but never had the good fortune to receive. Ciri would like that right?

He ran a hand through his own hair with a sigh. How the fuck was the White Wolf raising a daughter? It seemed like only yesterday they were all just getting pissed at the pub after every shift. Lambert had to admit. Geralt had guts. He would probably have had a meltdown if the task had been left to him but Geralt seemed to have taken to it pretty well. 

“Uncle Lambert!!” Ciri giggled excitably. 

“Yeah?” He scowled at her mischievous grin. 

“You made your hair all white!” She pointed up at him. 

He looked down at his hands in horror and sure enough they were covered in sticky floury dough. 

“Fudge.” He caught the swear just in time. 

“You look like Dad!” Ciri exclaimed as she spun round in a pirouette. 

“So do you!” He shot back.

“Do not!” 

“Do too!” He argued and scooped her up into his arms. “And I’m right because I’m the adult!”

“That’s not true!” Ciri countered. “Mr Jaskier says even adults make mistakes!”

“Mr Jaskier hasn’t met me.” He growled. 

Ciri laughed. “Yes he has! See you made a mistake!”

“I was testing you.” He grumbled and flushed as he realised the young girl was right. He had met Jaskier at the school back in October. 

“Suuure.” Ciri sang. “Now let me down! I want to open my presents!” 

Lambert chuckled and dropped the girl gently back on the ground. She sped off out of the kitchen like a blur. It was almost certainly a mistake letting her dip her fingers in the butter and sugar. He grinned. The sugar crash was Geralt’s problem. He was the fun uncle and got to enjoy eating sugar out of the pot. He squatted in front of the oven to check on their creation. The warmth seeped right into his bones and he hummed contentedly. It had been a cold couple of weeks and there was just something unsurpassable about the glow of a warm oven, especially when it contained baked goods. The kitchen was full of the smell of baking and cinnamon, the perfect scent for the winter holidays. 

“Wolf!” Vesemir barked from the doorway sternly. 

Lambert looked up sharply and almost toppled over from his squat. 

“Exactly how much sugar did you give the cub?” Vesemir muttered wearily. “She’s bouncing off the walls.”

Lambert shrugged. “It’s Solstice. Give her a break.”

“Smells good.” Vesemir nodded at the oven with a softening smile. “We’ll make a chef out of you yet.”

Soon enough the oven timer went off and the kitchen was crowded by hungry firefighters. Vesemir ordered them to queue up properly and in no time they were all crammed into the living room. The fireplace was lit and crackling. Ciri stared into the flames, mesmerised by the ever changing patterns of the fire licking up the chimney. Lil’ Bleater was curled up next to her licking at her hands. Geralt had put on a pan of mulled wine and a smaller pan of spiced apples juice for his daughter and the spicy scents had permeated the air. It was warmth and homely. Lambert grinned as he looked around at his family. He’d never felt so at home in his house before. 

“Presents!” Ciri demanded as she tore her gaze away from the fireplace. Her face was now covered in icing and crumbs, and her emerald eyes seemed to dance in the light of the fire. 

The sound of laughter filled the air. Renfri and Vesemir got to work distributing the presents until everyone had a pile. Naturally the young girl launched towards the biggest present but Geralt had her in his arms before she could tear the brown paper off. 

“Dad!” She whined and struggled to get free. 

“That one is last.” He ordered. “Promise me?” 

She glared furiously at the floor but mumbled an agreement under her breath. 

“Good.” He let her go and she picked up the smallest present instead. She looked up at Geralt to make sure it was ok and he nodded with a small smile. 

Ciri tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a small jewellery box. She opened it with an adorable confused expression on her face. 

“Did you check who it was from?” Vesemir asked.

“Sure.” Ciri growled but Lambert didn’t miss the way she sneaked a glance at the shreds of wrapping paper on her lap that were already being chewed up by Eskel’s demon goat. “Auntie Yen!” 

“What is it, Princess?” Geralt asked. 

“A necklace, with a bird!” She held the box up to Geralt. 

“Looks like a swallow.” Geralt mused. 

“That’s what Uncle Vesemir calls me!” Ciri exclaimed happily. “Help me put it on!” She thrust the box into his hands. 

Geralt fumbled a bit with the clasp but wouldn’t let Renfri help him and eventually Ciri had a beautiful silver necklace around her neck. The swallow pedant was embedded with what looked like emeralds, and knowing Yennefer, they actually were emeralds. 

Most of Lambert’s presents were new pieces of gym kit which suited him just fine. His old boxing gloves had sorely needed replacing so he was very pleased with Renfri’s gift. Although he knew it was probably so they would have an excuse to spar again without him blaming his gloves every time he lost. Vesemir had bought him a new set of guitar strings and a subscription to his favourite boxing magazine, Eskel and Geralt had come together to get him a brand new set of weights, one’s he’d been eyeing up for months but hadn’t been able to justify the costs. Yennefer’s gift was bottle of very expensive vodka that he’d had once in a bar on holiday and had never forgotten. Ciri had bought him a DVD of a film they’d watched together in the summer and a box of his favourite chocolates. 

Vesemir had a brand new collection of history and gardening books. He was settled into his arm chair closest to the fireplace with his nose buried in one the books. Next to him was a crystal whiskey glass that Yennefer had bought him. The damned witch seemed to be intent on showing them all up this year with her fancy job and her even fancier salary but who was he to complain?

Eskel had his arms full of new goat supplies from most of team. He turned round to show the little bastard his new stuff when they realised he was missing. 

“Where’s Lil’ Bleater?” Eskel frowned as he looked around the room.

Lambert shrugged. The last he’d seen of the goat he’d been munching on brown wrapping paper. Ciri leapt to her feet and started looking for clues to track the goats movements. Something she’d seen on one of her tv shows.

“How about the kitchen?” Geralt suggested. “Goats like food right?”

“Everyone likes food.” Renfri poked the silver-haired man in the arm. “We sort of need it to survive.”

“Goats really like food though.” Geralt insisted. 

“Goats eat anything.” Lambert countered. “He could just as well be in the bathroom by that logic.”

“Well I’ve looked under all the wrapping paper and sofas so he’s not in here!” Ciri chimed up from where she was buried half under cushions and half under brown paper. “Oooh what if we track his smell? Lil’ Bleater stinks!” 

Eskel gasped at the accusation. “He’s a very clean goat! I take good care of him.”

“There’s a reason Vesemir bought you fancy pet shampoo.” Lambert smirked and punched his brother in the arm. 

“Shut it.” Eskel grumbled. “He’s a handsome boy.”

“Who stinks!” Ciri agreed. 

“I still think we should try the kitchen.” Geralt insisted and then paused looking at Ciri thoughtfully. “I think I can smell goat from that direction.” 

Ciri squealed and ran into the kitchen. “Fucking liar.” Lambert hissed under his breath earning a smirk from Geralt. 

They trudged after the young girl. There was no obvious sign of the goat but Lambert could hear a strange scuffling sound coming from the oven. 

“He wouldn’t jump in a hot oven would he?” Lambert asked.

Ciri yelled at him for that and hit him squarely in the chest with her wooden sword. Lambert seized the opportunity to fall dramatically to his knees, pretending to be fatally wounded. He let some of his weight fall onto Ciri who shrieked underneath him. 

“Uncle Lambert!” 

“You got me real good, little lion cub.” He groaned as she tried to hold back his weight. He was still supporting himself enough that she wouldn’t get hurt but she didn’t need to know that. “This might just be my last day in this world.”

“Get off!” Ciri growled. “I didn’t hurt you!”

“I am wounded!” He fell to the floor and pulled her down on top of him. 

“You’re an asshole.” Ciri grumbled and there was an echo of shocked gasps from the adults in the room. “What? It’s not a swear!”

“And it’s true.” Eskel added.

“It is true.” Geralt agreed.

Lambert glared at them both. “Screw you.” 

“You’re awfully loud for someone who just died.” Renfri pointed out and he had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t swear colourfully at her. 

“Yeah! I told you I didn’t hurt you!” Ciri poked his chest.

A loud bleating ended the argument there. 

“Lil’ Bleater!” Eskel cried happily. 

Seconds later the a fluffy horned head poked out from under the oven. Lambert hadn’t even realised the gap between the oven and his kitchen floor was big enough for the goat to hide under. He was only a little goat but still it seemed like an impossible accomplishment. 

Eskel picked up his beloved pet and swung him round in a big hug. “I missed you buddy! No hiding under ovens again, alright?”

The goat bleated. 

“I know, I know. The oven smells of yummy food but you could have been hurt!” Eskel continued. 

“Melitele save us.” Renfri sighed and topped up her mulled wine from the pan before stalking back into the lounge. So they could finish unwrapping the presents. 

Eskel clipped on Lil’ Bleaters brand new collar and kept the mischievous goat in his lap as he unwrapped his last present, petting his sandy white fur absentmindedly. 

Lambert had bought his brother a new cookbook that he was absolutely not allowed to open in front of Ciri. The names of the recipes were all very crude and there were pictures to match. Eskel had barely removed the paper before bundling it into his bag. His face flushed with embarrassment as Lambert cackled until his stomach began to ache. Ciri obviously asked what the big joke was and Eskel grumbled some lame excuse that made no sense. Luckily Ciri seemed content to let it go as long as she could open her next present. Vesemir had bought her a collection of new books after hearing so much about her love of school and reading. Some of them were a little hard for her age but Geralt would be able to read them with her.

Renfri only had two presents. Ciri had bought her a leather bracelet with wolves stitched into the band chasing each other’s tails all around the strap and howling at some unseen moon. The wolf pack and Yennefer had all teamed up to get her a decorative dagger that she’d seen at a craft fair over the summer. It was a beautiful blade, engraved with some kind of fantastical elven language and there was a stunning moonstone embedded into the hilt. It had been extortionately expensive but between the lot of them they had managed to afford it. Renfri’s eyes had lit up when she’d ripped the paper off the box, not quite believing it until she’d carefully lifted off the lid with shaking hands. 

“There’s no way.” She whispered and then pulled them into a group hug. Even Vesemir put his book down to pat her awkwardly on the back. The blade fell from her lap with a clatter but thankfully she hadn’t quite managed to unsheathe it. 

Ciri pouted at the sudden outburst of emotion but Renfri pulled her into the hug as well. “Your’s was better obviously! You’re the only person to get me their own present. These guys cheated.” 

Ciri preened at that and stuck her tongue out at the rest of them. 

The hug fell apart when Lil’ Bleater head butted Eskel in the back and they all toppled in a pile on the floor, much to the oldest wolf’s amusement. After that it was Ciri’s turn to open another present. Renfri bought her a new colouring book with glittery pens that Ciri loved. She had a strange obsession with anything glittery. The young girl declared it was because glitter was obviously magical and the rest of the team just couldn’t understand its power. 

Geralt’s presents were all of a practical nature, a new toolbox from Vesemir, a couple of new shirts from Yennefer with a letter telling him that he had to wear them or else she would know. Ciri giggled at that but Geralt just looked at the freshly pressed black shirts in disgust. He was definitely more of a baggy t-shirt kind of guy but at least Yennefer hadn’t strayed from his usual colour scheme. Renfri had bought him some new stirrups for Roach. Lambert had bought him a new pair of boots after Geralt had complained about his old ones leaking following a particularly rainy shift at work. Eskel had made a picture frame filled with photographs of their little family. He’d even included a picture of Ciri with her parents and grandparents. The whole team had gotten a little sniffly at that one. Ciri was still yet to get off of Eskel’s lap and had promptly decided that he was the best uncle. 

Geralt also had another present in the form of an envelope that he tucked into the pocket of his jeans. Lambert raised an eyebrow at that but Geralt just shrugged it off. 

After Geralt’s presents Ciri was the only one with any presents left. She got a new wolf onesie from Eskel, further cementing his place as favourite uncle, much to Lambert’s displeasure. He vowed to make up for it on her birthday. He hated it when Eskel got one up on him.

And then it was time for Ciri’s last present and the last present of the day before they had to get busy in the kitchen for dinner. 

She pulled at the paper excitedly and screamed when the guitar case fell into her lap. 

“You got me a guitar!!” She shrieked. 

Geralt winced at the high pinched tone of her voice and Lambert didn’t blame him. He was sitting across the room and even his ears were ringing. Geralt shook his head. “I got you a Ukulele.”

“A ukulele?” Ciri scrunched her nose up. “Does Mr Jaskier play the Ukulele?”

Geralt nodded. “He can. He thought it might be a better fit for you. It’s like a mini guitar and you’ve still got little hands. There’s some music in there too. Once you learn you’ll be able to read it just like Mr Jaskier.”

“Will he teach me?” Ciri asked brightly and Geralt shook his head. 

“Jaskier won’t have much time outside of class to teach you but he has recommended a friend of his.” Geralt explained but Ciri was already scowling. 

“I want Mr Jaskier to teach me!” She pouted. 

“I’m sure if you ask nicely he can show you some things at school?” Eskel suggested. 

“And you wouldn’t want to upset his friend.” Vesemir added from his place at the fireplace. 

“Her name is Priscilla and she’s very excited to meet you. You’ll be starting lessons after school when term starts.” Geralt pulled his daughter into a hug. 

Lambert almost dropped his mug of mulled wine.

“Sorry what?”

Everyone turned to face him with matching confused expressions on their faces. 

“Lessons are after school?” Geralt repeated, raising his eyebrow at Lambert. 

“No no… What was her name?” Lambert’s hands were trembling around his mulled wine. 

“Priscilla?” Geralt repeated slowly. “He didn’t mention her last name.”

“Fuck!” He cursed.

Ciri gasped and pointed her finger accusingly at him and everyone in the room glared fiercely at him. 

“Dandelion is Jaskier!” He yelled out to try and defend himself. 

Ciri squealed happily and all the colour drained from Geralt’s face at the revelation. 

“What the fuck, Lambert?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! This story currently has about 22.5 chapters written... I need to actually finish it so I can put in the final word count but I'm having some writers block on it. So some words of encouragement would be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come and hang out :D
> 
> \- Yaz


	10. Chapter 10

The flat was filled with the melodic sounds of sitar strings, or more accurately, the screeching sounds of sitar strings.

Jaskier still hadn’t gotten the hang of his new baby. 

It was a truly beautiful instrument but completely different to his usual stringed instruments. The long neck of the sitar had way more pegs than he used to and he just couldn’t get it to sing like he wanted. He was struggling to play with the microtones that the sitar music was famous for. He would probably have to see if he could find a teacher to help him. That wasn’t going to be easy. 

He gently put the instrument back in its case and sat down at his piano instead. His flat wasn’t really big enough to house his baby grand piano but he just hadn’t been able to leave the beautiful instrument behind in the shop. It had called out to him like a siren and he’d been helpless to resist its call. 

Of course, he’d probably be able to afford a bigger flat if he managed to stop buying instruments. 

He laughed. “But where’s the fun in that?” 

His fingers idly pressed the keys without him putting much effort in. He closed his eyes and let the music free from his heart. 

School was starting back the next day and he’d been up almost all weekend trying to finish up his lesson plans. He hadn’t meant to leave it to the last minute but time had just gotten away from him and suddenly it was Saturday and he’d not done any work. Luckily coffee and cat naps were his bestest friends in the whole wide world and he’d finally managed to get it all done. Just in time to enjoy his last evening before the kids took over his life once more. His kids were amazing but full of energy and it took a lot out of him to be so switched on all day long. He’d already drafted his email to the parents to send out on Friday evening based on his lesson plans for the week, but he still had Geralt’s left to write. 

Not that Geralt received any special treatment or anything. 

It was just that he needed to be mindful of Ciri’s special circumstances.

Or at least that was the lie he’d told himself all term.

But at least he still personalised each of the emails a little before sending them out!

And so what he he wrote Geralt handwritten letters more frequently than the other parents. 

It wasn’t a crime. 

The only crime was Geralt’s ass. 

It was to die for. 

He groaned and shook his head to try and clear out the thoughts of his love, his fingers slipping on the keys of the piano, but there was really nothing he could do to stop the barrage of Geralt thoughts. Since parents’ evening he’d developed a blooming friendship with Geralt and it was making him feel all sorts of things that he really shouldn’t be feeling if he wanted to keep his job. 

They had managed to meet up a few of times over the last half of the school term to discuss Ciri’s progress at school, although Jaskier could count on one hand how many times Ciri’s classwork had actually come up in conversation. Jaskier could never resist flirting with the firefighter which Geralt took in his stride. Although Jaskier wasn’t entirely certain that Geralt even realised he was flirting.

Jaskier was ninety-five percent sure that Geralt was interested in men, and in him specifically. He’d never explicitly said it and there was nothing about their meetings that really screamed anything more than friendship, but every so often Geralt would seemingly flirt back and it floored Jaskier every single time. How was he supposed to handle that? This tall muscular amber-eyed God was actually paying him attention. The small smiles that Geralt gave him made his heart sing, and to the gods when Geralt laughed, he felt his insides turn to mush. Geralt was usually happy to let Jaskier hold most of the conversation, talking about his new instrumental conquests, books he was reading, the beautiful birds he’d seen on the walk to work, but the white-hair man was beginning to open up. 

Jaskier had learnt more about Roach, who he’d mistaken for a large dog in Ciri’s drawing. He had, of course teased Geralt over his choice of name but that hadn’t lasted long when Geralt had turned the table on him and asked what Jaskier would call a horse and the only name he could think of was Greg. Geralt offered up a little information about his teammates but notably avoided talking about his childhood. Jaskier couldn’t blame him for that. He had avoided that topic himself.

He knew that Geralt struggled to find time to cook but always made an effort to cook something from scratch with Ciri’s help at least once a week. Their favourite thing to make was pizza, it was also their favourite take-away. He’d learnt that Geralt tended not to watch much tv unless it was with Ciri and the man could tell you far too much about Ciri’s favourite cartoons, which explained his Apple Jack lunchbox. Geralt preferred to read in his free time instead, normally fantasy books, anything with a dragon in. Geralt’s favourite colour was blue which Jaskier adored. He could pretend that the reason was because his eyes were blue. He had filed that information away to fuel several romantic daydreams which ended in a summer wedding. 

His fingers began to dance over the keys in a previously unheard melody. 

It was beautiful.

“Ah fuck!” He cursed and scrambled to find manuscript paper as he pushed his glasses up his nose. 

It was buried in between his lute and his computer. There was barely a spare page in the notebook but he managed to find one in the middle. Once he’d got the melody captured he would copy it over into a fresher, more organised book that held his complete compositions. 

He closed his eyes again as he tried to remember precisely what he’d played before but it was missing something. The chords weren’t quite right and it left the piece sounding almost empty and dead.

“Bollocks!”

The moment had passed and his muse had left him.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his recents calls until he found the number he wanted. The phone rang twice before the sweet dulcet tones of his younger cousin sounded in his ears. 

“What do you want?” Essi asked wearily.

“Lovely to speak to you too.” Jaskier shot back.

Essi sighed. “I’m working, Dandelion.”

“This late?” He double checked the clock. It was almost nine in the evening but then again she was a professional singer. If she had a gig then it was likely to be later on in the day, and now that he paid more attention he could hear the sounds of a bar in the background of the call. 

“Not all of us work nine til five, Dandy.” The old nickname slipped out. 

“Essi!” He groaned. “I stopped calling myself Dandelion years ago”

“Says the man that realised an album last spring under the alias of Dandelion.” 

“It’s a stage name.” He pouted before he remembered she couldn’t see him.

He heard someone calling her name in the background and she yelled back. He winced as the shout hurt his ears. “I gotta go, did you need something?”

He sighed as he ran his fingers over the keys of his piano without making a sound. He could still hear the notes in his head as he desperately tried to recall the tune he had played before. “I just lost another composition to the cruel winds of time.”

“Who were you thinking about?” She asked and he could picture her easily. One hand on her hip, guitar case slung around her shoulder, long blonde hair falling in front of one of her cornflour blue eyes, eyes they had both inherited from their shared grandfather. 

He frowned as he considered her question. “Who said I was thinking about anyone?”

She laughed before shouting again at whoever was trying to get her attention. Jaskier held the phone away from his ear this time. Essi really did have a set of lungs on her. “Dearest cousin. Your first album was all about your failed relationship with Pris. The second album was your failed relationship with Stella, and Valdo’s betrayal by stealing away your true love.”

“Wow. Geez. Thanks Essi. You really know how to build a man up.” 

“So what failed relationship is it this time?”

“There is no relationship.” He spat back through gritted teeth, wondering why he even bothered with his cousin sometimes. In many ways she was like his little sister and she never hesitated in telling him exactly what she thought of him.

“Sure, sure. That’s why it’s failed. Look I really have to go. They need me on stage. Don’t be a stranger Dandelion!” 

The phone line cut off and Jaskier stared at the phone in his hands.

“Oh cock!” He cursed as he realised she was completely right.

He’d been thinking about Geralt.

He closed the lid of the piano with more force than necessary and moved to sit back down on the sofa. He hadn’t meant to think about Geralt. He’d just been thinking about the work he needed to do for school and his thoughts had drifted to his infatuation on their own accord. 

As if reading his thoughts, his phone buzzed signalling he had an email.

From Geralt.

“Oh no. No no no. Can’t do this right now.” He moaned and put his head in his hands, knocking his glasses half off his face. “Can’t I have a moment in peace?!” He asked the ceiling. 

It was Sunday. He didn’t have to worry about what to say to Geralt until Friday. That was the rules… unless they had a catch up about Ciri but they hadn’t organised another meeting yet. Yes he missed Geralt desperately but he was aware that that was borderline clingy and he didn’t want to scare the man off, and yet here he was emailing Jaskier out of the blue. 

It was probably about the present he’d bought Geralt. It wasn’t much, just a voucher for one of the outdoor activity shops in town and a poem he’d written about Roach.

It was terrible. 

He hated it. 

“Oh fuck off.” Jaskier groaned at his own thoughts and clicked on the email. 

_Jaskier,_

_Sorry for bothering you. I know you’re busy._

_I wanted to say thank you for my present. I read Roach the poem. She was very impressed._

Jaskier grabbed a pillow from his sofa and hugged it tightly as he continued to read, feeling very proud of himself. 

_I am sorry I didn’t think to get you anything from me but hopefully you liked Ciri’s gift._

He had. Ciri had bought him a brand new travel mug. It was covered in music notes just like his mug from the staffroom at school. There had also been a little photo of Roach tucked into the card because Jaskier hadn’t stopped asking Geralt about her. 

_I need to ask you something. It would probably be better in person or over the phone. I’m not good at emails._

_\- Geralt._

Jaskier re read the last paragraph twice before hitting the reply button. 

He sent Geralt his number before he could change his mind and then threw his phone onto the sofa. The phone barely managed to bounce on the cushions before it started ringing and Jaskier lunged to pick it up. 

He clicked to accept the call and all at once he felt lighter than he had in weeks. 

“Geralt!” He cried happily. “Hi!”

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s gruff voice answered. Jaskier felt like he’d turned to goo. The way Geralt said his name never failed to make him feel weak at the knees. 

_Pull yourself together Jaskier!_ He chided at himself.

“So, my dear, what was it that you wanted to ask me?” He kept his voice light like his fingers on his lute strings, not betraying the way his heart thundered in his chest.

Geralt grunted on the other end of the line and Jaskier rolled his eyes and smiled. How was it that he even missed Geralt’s ineloquent grunts?

“It’s not a stupid question, Geralt.” He replied. “If you don’t know something then you should ask.”

“I’m not one of your kids, Jaskier.” Geralt huffed.

He laughed at that and put the phone on speaker. His fingers were itching to move and he was getting restless not being able to play whilst holding the phone. 

“Yes yes. I know that.” He hummed as he let his fingers trail across the many different instrument cases that were stacked up against the wall. They landed on his lute, an instrument long forgotten to many but one that remained so dear to him. He’d originally started to play the lute because it was different and he liked to stand out. Every musician in the folk scene played guitar or violin or piano. 

He didn’t want to be like every other musician. 

He wanted to be the best. 

So he’d pick up the lute and never looked back. It was an expensive and delicate instrument so he tended not to bring it into school that often but he often found himself playing it at home. 

It was also a reminder as to why he’d begun teaching full time. At first he’d only taught guitar and piano whilst he was at university in Oxenfurt to help finance his music career and pay for his rent after he had had a disagreement with his parents. The lute was the first instrument he’d bought for himself after the argument, to celebrate having enough students to finally make it through the month without begging his friends for cash and managing to save for the first time. 

Soon after he realised how much he really enjoyed teaching and after graduating with a degree in music, he went on to study teaching. He’d worked as a teaching assistant in Oxenfurt before moving to Upper Posada where he finally had his own class, the Buttercups. 

“Have you put me on speaker?” Geralt asked.

“Don’t you have sharp ears?” Jaskier teased his friend, he was sure they were friends. “It’s just me here, I just needed my hands.”

“You needed your hands.” Geralt replied and Jaskier could practically hear the smirk in his tone. 

“Not like that!” He cried. “Honestly, Geralt, is that really what you think of me?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I just wanted to grab my lute.” 

Geralt laughed. “Is that what they call it these days?” 

“Geralt Rivia!” Jaskier exclaimed.

Geralt just laughed in response. It was infectious and soon enough Jaskier was laughing along. Once they’d calmed down he began to strum the strings of his beloved instrument gently, fiddling with the pegs to make sure it was in tune. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject, Geralt.” Jaskier spoke softly as Geralt’s laughter faded away. 

“Right.” 

“Geralt!” He all but whined. “You said you needed to ask me something. Come on! The suspense is killing me.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll finally get some peace.”

“Now hang on!” Jaskier gasped in offence. “You rang me!”

“Regretting it already.”

“I’ll hang up!” Jaskier warned. 

“No. You won’t.”

Jaskier sighed. “No. I won’t, but honestly Geralt. Is something wrong? Not that I’m not delighted to be talking to you, but…”

“But you’re Ciri’s teacher.” Geralt finished. 

“Yes.” 

It was a topic that had come up a few times. They weren’t doing anything wrong exactly. The friendship that had sparked up between them came as natural as breathing. They argued as if they’d known each other their whole lives, an easy banter that was unpracticed and yet almost flawless. Jaskier was fighting his attraction to Geralt the whole time, and he was sure the other man was doing the same with him but there was still this cloud looming over them. The line between professional and appropriate behaviour between parent and teacher. 

He knew teachers and parents had hooked up before. It was scandalous and often the topic of vicious rumours in the staffroom. If it was reported to the headmaster and proven those teachers got in a lot of trouble, some of them were often asked to resign. Jaskier knew his professional relationship with Stregobor was rocky at best. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake. 

But he was falling in love with Geralt, hard and fast. 

It had moved beyond infatuation the moment he’d sat in the fire engine and they’d began to talk. The more he learnt about the man, the more he fell in love. Geralt was a complex man. He struggled to express himself and he constantly worried about being a good father to Ciri, but he was kind and loyal to his family. He had a surprisingly quick tongue that never failed to make Jaskier cackle. He wasn’t a pushover either, he was strong-willed and relentless in sticking to his own morals. 

His determination to be a good man made Jaskier feel all fuzzy inside. 

This strong and handsome man was just a gentle giant, one that could absolutely kill him given the chance, but there was just something about Geralt that made Jaskier trust him. 

It was probably those eyes. 

He adored Geralt’s eyes. 

They were so unusual, like swirling pools of amber brought to life by bright beams of dazzling sunlight. 

And that was why it was so important that their calls and meetings had to remain professional. 

Without the guise of Ciri or work then their friendship was ruined. Jaskier would fall head over heels in love with Geralt and then… 

and then… 

He’d have to break it off. 

He couldn’t risk it. 

Even if there was a chance that Geralt fancied him back.

So he constantly reminded himself that they were friends and managed to frame every meeting or conversation they had as a work based thing. It was imperative that he didn’t forget that. 

Friends only, and even then he really should be careful. Tissaia was right. Stregobor was just looking for an excuse to get rid of him and if he was shown to be favouring Geralt ,and in turn Ciri, too much then he might as well start looking for a new job.

He closed his eyes and mentally chastised himself for being a fool.

“So talk to me Geralt.” Jaskier pleaded. “What did you need? Did Ciri say something?”

Geralt just grunted again. 

“I told you it’s not stupid.” Jaskier sighed. “It was obviously important to you.”

“It’s for Ciri.” Geralt stated bluntly. All traces of their easy laughter was now gone from his voice. 

“Good. I am her teacher, what does she need? Did she say something?” Jaskier’s mind instantly recalled every interaction he’d had with the young ashen-haired girl over the last few days, looking for moments where he might have upset her or said something wrong. He couldn’t think of anything but he could have easily misread the situation. 

“We went to Lambert’s for Solstice.” Geralt added. 

Jaskier frowned trying to follow Geralt’s train of thought and failing. He stayed silent, waiting for Geralt to find the right words. 

“He likes this band and Ciri just started screaming.”

Jaskier felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. 

A band.

It wouldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

Barely anyone even listened to his band. They barely had a thousand views online for their most popular song. 

“She swears to the gods it’s you, Jask.” Geralt finished. 

Jask. 

It wasn’t the first time Geralt had called him that. He hated it. It made his heart do weird things in his chest that was not appropriate when talking to a friend. 

He took a page out of Geralt’s book and hummed noncommittally. “Right.”

“And then Lambert pointed out Ciri’s Ukulele teacher is called Priscilla just like Dandelion’s bandmate. I thought it was all just a coincidence, but then I realised, Jaskier, Buttercups.” Geralt added, sounding weary. “Dandelions. All flowers.”

“Ah.”

“Jaskier?”

His fingers stilled on the lute strings. He pressed down with the palm of his hand to dampen the resonating sound. “It’s, well, it’s sort of a hobby?”

“You’re Dandelion?” Geralt stammered. 

“Hello?” He tried to joke. “Nice to meet you.”

“Fuck.” Geralt swore loudly. “We all told Ciri she was wrong.”

“And now you’ll have to tell her she was right. That’s embarrassing for you.” 

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

Jaskier scowled. “Hey! None of that grumpy firefighter stuff. It’s not my fault you didn’t trust your daughter!” 

Geralt growled and hung up the phone. 

Jaskier gaped at the blank screen. 

“Oh no you don’t!” He rang Geralt straight back and to his surprise, he actually picked up. 

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier said before Geralt could say anything. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Hmm.”

“Well. I did mean that’s it not my fault and I don’t know why you’re cross that I have a band, but I shouldn’t have said that about Ciri.” He rambled on. 

Geralt still didn’t answer. Jaskier had to check the screen to make sure he was still on the line, quickly putting it back onto speaker. “So I’m sorry. I can explain to her tomorrow at school, about the band. Although, you really should be able to admit your mistakes. I know it’s not always easy.”

“Hold on.” Geralt said and then was a thud. Jaskier assumed that was Geralt putting the phone down. He could hear footsteps and the sound of a door opening. He held his breath whilst Geralt did whatever Geralt needed to do. 

He picked his lute back up again and began to play. The notes flowed easily this time, the same tune as before. He grinned and scribbled the notes down onto the coffee stained page of manuscript. He got so caught up in the music he didn’t hear Geralt enter the room on the other side of the line, and this time he wasn’t alone. 

“Mr Jaskier?” Ciri sounded exhausted. Geralt had probably just woken her up given the time. 

Jaskier blushed and thanked Freya that the young girl couldn’t see him. 

Ciri wasn’t supposed to know they’d been talking more outside of school in case she got confused or the wrong idea. Why was Geralt involving her? 

Unless the wrong idea… was the right idea?

He swallowed nervously. 

“Hello Buttercup!” He put on his best teacher voice, smiling brightly even though she couldn’t see him. 

“Dad said you needed to tell me something. That it couldn’t wait.” Ciri asked in a small voice. “Did I do something wrong, Mr Jaskier?”

“Of course not Ciri!” Jaskier reassured her. “Geralt just wanted to ask me about the band your Uncle Lambert likes.”

“In the middle of the night?” Ciri groaned. 

“Well…” Jaskier searched for a good explanation. 

“It’s not as late for adults.” Geralt suggested. 

Which wasn’t entirely true. Jaskier had to be up early for work and he was exhausted from his late night the day before. Geralt would have to up early too to get Ciri to school on time. They both needed to get to bed soon but there wasn’t a better explanation. 

“Hmm.” Ciri hummed starting to pick up on some of Geralt’s mannerisms. 

“Your father said you thought that Dandelion sounded like me?” Jaskier asked cautiously. 

Ciri gasped and squealed excitably. “It sounded exactly like you Mr Jaskier! But everyone else said it was impossible and then Dad said my guitar teacher was called Priscilla and Uncle Lambert said a naughty word and apparently you are Dandelion, which I already knew because I’d already told them it was you and then Dad said a naughty word!”

Jaskier chuckled. “I am, indeed, Dandelion.”

“Of course you are!” Ciri answered completely certain in her assessment. 

“But I need you to keep that quiet. Have you told any of your friends yet?” Jaskier asked. 

“You have to speak, Ciri, he can’t see you.” Geralt answered softly.

“Nope.” 

Jaskier sighed in relief, his band wasn’t exactly child friendly and he didn’t want it getting out that he’d inadvertently taught his whole class how to swear like a sailor. “Can you keep it to yourself, Ciri?”

“Yes, but why?” Ciri asked. 

Jaskier ran his hand through his hair as he tried to think of a good way to explain. “Umm….”

“The band is something Mr Jaskier does outside of school. It’s good to keep work and play separate, Princess.” Geralt answered for him. 

“Will you still play for us?” Ciri asked. 

Jaskier laughed. “Of course I will, Ciri. It wouldn’t be Buttercups without song time!”

Ciri seemed to consider that. “Good. Dara likes it. Everyone else assumes he can’t listen to music but he can. Dara said he can hear it through the vibe…vibe—”

“Vibrations?” Jaskier suggested. 

“Vibrations!” Ciri agreed “and he can still understand the words. He likes that you don’t treat him differently.”

Jaskier almost sobbed. That was probably one of the sweetest things his kids had ever said to him. 

“I’m tired now. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight Mr Jaskier, Goodnight Dad!” He heard Ciri’s footsteps patter away. 

“Fuck me.” Jaskier sighed and Geralt chuckled. “She’s a good kid.” 

“The best.” Geralt agreed. “I should go too.”

“No hanging up this time?” Jaskier teased. 

Geralt hummed in response.

“Goodnight, Geralt. Sleep well.”

“Night, Jaskier.”

Jaskier hit the end call button, his hands shaking in his lap.

“Fuck me…” He repeated under his breath and rubbed his eyes, smearing his glasses. 

Geralt Rivia was going to be the death of him, and he would die happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're almost half way through! You may notice this now has an end chapter count! I have one more chapter to write as a sort of epilogue and I am soooo excited to share the rest of it with you all! 
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so late. I was struggling to get my writer head on today and final checks took forever! But let me know what you think and maybe come follow me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/)


	11. Chapter 11

The gym stank of sweat and the air was thick with testosterone and fragile masculinity. Renfri snarled as one of men wolf whistled at her and she punched the bag in front of her harder and then spun round to hit the bag with a flying kick, imagining it was the idiot’s face. She loved the gym. She loved the feel of her muscles burning. She loved being strong and knowing she could crush any one of these pathetic losers in a fight.

But they only saw her as a woman. 

They saw her as weak. 

They saw her as a potential conquest. 

She screamed and let a sequence of punches and kicks loose on the bag and then half collapsed onto it. Her gloves wrapped around the back of the punching bag and she hugged it close as she caught her breath. 

She heard the sound of laughter behind her and she spun round to yell at the poor person who had underestimated her. 

The shout caught in her throat.

It was Lambert.

His long ginger hair was half tied up behind his head and dripping with sweat. He’d clearly already started his workout before deciding to bother her instead.

“Whoa there.” He put his gloved hands up in front of his face to defend himself from her obvious ire. “I was laughing at the poor bag! I promise.”

Renfri glanced over to where the other men in the gym were standing at, ogling at her like she was a piece of meat, and then back to Lambert. “You’d be the first one.” 

Lambert raised an eyebrow and looked over at the other men. He scoffed. “You could take them easily, Shrike.”

“Oh I know.”

“Want to test the theory?” His eyes danced playfully. 

She punched her gloves together. “Fuck yes.”

Lambert flexed the muscles in his arms and waved the guys over. “Oi! Care for a little competition?”

The men ambled over, grinning lecherously at her. She rolled her eyes and stretched her muscles before pulling off her gloves. She wouldn’t need them for the type of sparring that Lambert had in mind. It would be less boxing and more street fight. Her hands were still wrapped up under the gloves to offer her knuckles enough protection and the heavy weight of the boxing gloves would only slow her down. 

“Yeah. We’re interested.” Moron number one said. 

Lambert tilted his head. “Two on two. Me and Shrike versus you two. First team to both tap out loses.”

“Standard rules?” Moron number two asked. 

The gym’s boxing ring meant that sparring was not unusual and there was a set of rules drilled into the wall after one memorable fight where one the boxers had been bitten and had had to go to hospital. 

Lambert nodded. “Keep it clean.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll go easy on your girl.”

“Not his girl.” Renfri growled. 

“Whatever, sweetheart.” 

Lambert smirked and cuffed Renfri lightly round the head. She retaliated with a quick swipe to his side. “Bit of advice fellas? Don’t hold back. She won’t.”

They howled in laughter as they took in Renfri’s smaller form.

She grinned. 

This was going to be so much fun. 

She’d sparred with Lambert enough times to know his style, his strengths, his weaknesses, and he knew the same about her so they easily slipped into a dancing rhythm as they dodged and attacked their partners. When Lambert got caught in the stomach by a well time blow, Renfri was there to pull him back out of danger and block the next punch before spinning round and knocking the other man round the head. Lambert yelled as he launched his next attack on the poor pitiless men who had underestimated her. The man didn’t manage to get his hands up in time before he was thrown towards the ropes under the sheer weight of Lambert. He tapped out shortly after that. Lambert winked at her and tapped out, dunking under the ropes to help the other man out of the ring and leaving Renfri alone against their final opponent. 

“Is that all you got, girl?” He spat at her. 

Renfri rolled her eyes and beckoned him forward. He lunged at her like the brute that he was. She easily side-stepped the attack and kicked the man as he passed her, propelling him into the ropes. He grunted and spun round to attack her but he was too slow, she’d already caught him in the stomach with another punch and a quick swipe at his ankles sent him crashing to the ground. 

He groaned as he struggled to catch his breath. 

Renfri pouted down at him. 

“Aww. Is that all you got?” She laughed and Lambert whooped from where his was now resting his arms on the ropes on the other side of the ring. 

“Fuck you!” The man spat and went to grabbed her but she’d already predicted the attack and she leapt back. He crashed onto his stomach and she straddled his waist to pin him down. She pressed her palm against the back of his neck. 

“Never gonna happen, sweetheart.” She pressed harder against his neck. 

The man writhed under her trying to get free but Renfri had had far too much practice in the ring. 

The man yelled but reluctantly thumped his hand twice against the mat. Renfri was off him in a heartbeat, not wanting the pervert to get the wrong idea. Lambert was already in the ring to give her hug. It was sweaty and disgusting but she laughed all the same. 

The normal fight etiquette was to help your partner up at the end. She glanced back at the man who was practically whimpering on the mat and then turned to his friend. “You can take care of that. We’re done here.” 

She ducked out of the ropes and made her way to the shower rooms to clean off, agreeing to meet Lambert outside so they could grabbed some lunch together. She was starving after all the exercise, she felt like she could eat a horse! 

“Sorry Roach!” She laughed to herself as she grabbed her gym bag. 

After her shower she changed and towel dried her hair before going outside to meet up with Lambert. His hair was still damp, from the shower this time instead of sweat, and he’d changed into an oversized hoody. She bumped her shoulder against his as the walked down the street. 

“Where to Wolf?” She asked as her stomach rumbled. 

He shrugged. “Thought maybe some sandwiches and coffee?”

She hummed in agreement. “Coffee is always good. I thought you were hanging out with Eskel today?” 

He scoffed. “Yeah. We were supposed to. The bastard goat of his got sick and had to go to the vets.”

Renfri frowned. Eskel adored his pet goat like it was his child. “That’s rough. Is he alright?”

Lambert laughed darkly. “Eskel or the goat?”

Renfri grinned. “Both?”

“The bastard ate something he shouldn’t have. Eskel is just being paranoid. That goat eats anything and everything.” Lambert drawled and opened the door to the coffee shop that they’d stopped outside. 

Renfri grimaced at the pink streamers and confetti in the shop window. She’d forgotten it was nearly February already. St Julian’s day was coming up, a celebration of the saint of love and music. It always drove Renfri insane. She hated it. People became sick with love and romance, and in all honesty she’d never understood the fuss. Romance had never been something she’d experienced nor particularly wanted. She was more than happy with her friends and the little family they’d become. 

Still, that didn’t mean she enjoyed having other people’s romantic bliss being shoved down her throat in the build up to St Julian’s day, the constant questions of when she was going to get a husband and settle down, or when are you going to have kids, Renfri? 

How about never?

She wasn’t broken and she didn’t need a romantic partner to feel like a success in life. 

If she told herself that enough she might start to believe it.

Yeah, St Julian’s day was not her most favourite day of the year. 

She took a deep breath and went inside. The bell chimed as they stepped through. 

Renfri froze and Lambert almost crash into her. 

“What the fuck, Shrike?” 

Renfri spun round and clapped her hand over his mouth . “Shut it!” She pointed to a corner of the coffee shop where Geralt was sat with Ciri’s teacher. 

Lambert mumbled something and licked her hand. She grimaced and pulled her hand away, wiping the saliva down Lambert’s hoody. 

“What the fuck?” Lambert repeated more quietly. “What’s he doing with the teacher?”

“I don’t know!” She hissed. “Now move, you prick!” She tried to shove him out of the door but he didn’t budge. 

“I’m gonna go talk to them.” Lambert decided and Renfri groaned. 

“This is a terrible idea.” 

“You go then!”

“I’m not leaving!” 

“Then come on!” Lambert tugged her towards Geralt and Jaskier. 

Jaskier spotted them first. 

“Oh shit!” He cursed and leapt up from the table. “Ah. Hello!” He waved cheerily. “Geralt your friends are here!”

“Fuck!” Geralt swore and spun round to glare at them. 

Unfortunately for the White Wolf both Renfri and Lambert were well acquainted with his death glare and ignored it without a second thought. 

“Geralt!” Lambert pulled the other fireman into a sideways hug. “We didn’t know you had a date!”

“Not a date!” Jaskier chimed up. “Right Geralt?”

“Not a date.” Geralt agreed. “Mr Pankratz was just telling me…”

“Oh it’s Mr Pankratz now is it?” Lambert asked with a smirk. “What happened to Jaskier, or should I say Dandelion?

“Oh a fan! Geralt mentioned you were a fan! I’ve never met a fan before. Did you want an autograph? Or is that too presumptuous.” Jaskier blushed and fidgeted with his hands. 

“He doesn’t want an autograph.” Geralt answered, ignoring Lambert’s protests.

“So if it’s not a date?” Renfri quirked an eyebrow at the very date like setting.

“I… I was just passing by you see.” Jaskier stammered. “The lemon drizzle cake in this shop is just to die for!”

“And I was already here.” Geralt added. 

“Getting coffee!” Jaskier agreed. “We all love coffee. That’s why we’re here! Coffee!”

“I think you might have had enough caffeine.” Renfri muttered and crossed her arms. 

Jaskier laughed almost hysterically at that. “But I couldn’t just leave without saying hello! It would be rude of me.”

Geralt grunted in agreement. 

“So I thought what’s the harm in popping over for a quick chat and then you came in and here we are!” Jaskier finished. 

Lambert chuckled and smirked at her. “He knows I was only joking right?”

Renfri shook her head. “I don’t think he does. So where’s your lemon drizzle cake?”

Jaskier looked back at the table. Between the two coffees, one black and one covered in what looked like caramel syrup, was a large slice of chocolate cake.

“Did I say lemon drizzle cake?” Jaskier blanched. 

Lambert laughed and patted the teacher roughly on the back. Jaskier yelped and his fingers were twitching nervously at his side. “Relax. We don’t care what you do.”

“It’s not a date.” Geralt growled. “Leave him alone.”

“Then why are you lying, Ger-Bear?” Renfri asked as she sat down in Jaskier’s vacated seat, helping herself to the chocolate cake. 

“We’re…” Geralt paused, obviously struggling to find the right word. 

“Friends.” Jaskier finished looking back at Geralt apparently not noticing Geralt’s frown at the word. “We’re friends but some people might find it a bit strange given that I’m his daughter’s teacher. If it got back to my boss…”

“Then why bother at all?” Lambert scoffed. “How did you even become friends any way?”

Geralt opened his mouth to speak but Jaskier cut him off. Renfri rolled her eyes. How did Geralt put up with this idiot? The way Geralt had described him, Renfri had pictured some cool but slightly dorky plaid wearing nerd… not this… this… whatever this was?

“That was my fault! Geralt mentioned about Ciri wanting to learn an instrument and well that’s sort of something I love and I just talked his ear off about it for, gods, it must have been hours.”

“It was half an hour after school.” Geralt corrected. 

“And well after that it sort of just became a habit. Geralt would pop in after work every so often to ask if everything was going alright with Ciri.” Jaskier continued. “We were all worried about her when she first started and when the holidays were approaching we knew it would be hard.”

“Her first solstice without her real family.”

“Geralt! You are her real family now. We’ve talked about this!” Jaskier chided him and patted the other man on the shoulder. “But umm… after a while, we sort of stopped talking about Ciri and just talked about, well, life! And…” Jaskier paused as he suddenly focussed on Renfri. “Hang on! Is that my cake?!”

“Our cake.” Geralt added. “Don’t take it personally. She does it all the time.”

“But I was really looking forward to that!” Jaskier whined. 

Renfri smirked and looked the teacher steadily in the eyes as she took another mouthful of chocolate cake. It was deliciously moist and rich. “Is that chocolate fudge icing?” Renfri mumbled around her mouthful of cake. 

Jaskier gaped at her and put his hands on his hips. 

“Geralt!” He pouted. 

“Renfri, leave the cake. Otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it.” Geralt said giving the teacher a soft smile, one Renfri had rarely seen before. “He talks enough as it is.”

“We hadn’t noticed.” Renfri drawled sarcastically but put her fork down on the plate reluctantly. 

“I had.” Lambert argued and Renfri punched him in the arm before peering at Jaskier’s coffee. 

The teacher lunged for his cup, knocking into the table and spilling both his and Geralt’s coffee over the table. “Oh no. No no no!” He picked up the mug and cradled it to his chest. “You stole my cake. You are not stealing my coffee too!” 

Renfri cackled at his possessiveness over the drink. “Is there even any coffee in that monstrosity? It looks like pure sugar!”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Do all firefighters drink their coffee black as smoke?”

Geralt smirked. “It’s on the application form.”

“Fuck off.” Jaskier glared at him. “I know you’re all laughing at me. Honestly, I thought we were friends Geralt!”

Lambert laughed hard at that and Renfri rolled her eyes at him. “That was your first mistake.”

“We should move tables.” Geralt suggested as he tried to mop up Jaskier’s mess with some napkins. “This one isn’t big enough for four.”

Jaskier’s expression changed from one of horror and offence to fondness in a heartbeat. 

Well wasn’t that an interesting development. 

Geralt had never mentioned that his crush on the teacher was requited. Although all that talk of friends was probably throwing the white wolf off. 

“Well seeing as my seat and my cake have both been stolen.” Jaskier huffed and narrowed his eyes at Renfri. “I’ll get us more coffee and cake whilst you guys chose a new table. Any requests?”

“Not cake.” Lambert said. When Jaskier gave him a questioning look he shrugged. “I’ll come with you. I want a sandwich.”

The pair of them shuffled over to the counter to order whilst Geralt and Renfri gathered up their belongings from the smaller table and moved it to a double one in the centre of the room. One of the staff looked wearily at the mess of coffee soaked napkins that were left behind. Geralt tried to scooped them up to put in the bin but he was shooed away as they picked up their cleaning supplies to get to work. It was a battle not worth fighting so both firefighters mumbled an apology.

Renfri was watching Geralt carefully as they sat down. He was too busy looking over at Jaskier to notice, sipping what was left of his coffee. Geralt frequently spoke about Jaskier at work when they were in between jobs, mostly in reference to Ciri and the wolf pack would always laugh and joke about his attachment to the teacher but it was completely different seeing it in person. 

She hadn’t realised how close the two men had become. 

Geralt had never mentioned going to see Jaskier after school and now outside of school too. Regardless of what tales Jaskier spun, Renfri was certain that this little coffee date was not an accident or a spontaneous affair. She felt bitter that Geralt felt like he couldn’t trust them with the truth. Yes, they’d teased him about Jaskier but he should have realised that the wolves would support him no matter what. 

They were family. 

But what if Geralt was starting to build a new family without them?

They’d already added Ciri to the mix, which really she didn’t mind. It was nice to have another girl around when they got together. The boys didn’t quite understand how draining it was to be the odd one out every single day, even if she was just one of the boys, but that didn’t mean she wanted another intruder into their tight family unit. 

And come to think of it, it was always Geralt that brought new people into the mix. Yennefer, Ciri, Jaskier. 

Were they not enough for him?

She pulled the chocolate cake back towards her. Jaskier was getting new cake anyway and she was still fucking hungry. The movement was more heavy-handed than she’d meant it to be and it drew Geralt’s attention. 

He tilted his head at her. 

“I’m fine.” She grumbled and stuffed a forkful of the delicious cake into her mouth. 

“Renfri…” 

“I said I’m fine.” She spat out, crumbs spraying the table. “Just keep mooning over the teacher.”

Geralt frowned. “I am not mooning.”

“You’re forgetting about us.” Renfri snarled. 

“What the fuck, Renfri?” Geralt huffed. “Where would you get an idea like that?”

Renfri scoffed but didn’t say anything and Geralt didn’t have a chance to push for an answer as Lambert and Jaskier came back carrying trays filled with coffee and food. The teacher was chatting away without a care in the world about his band and the new album he was working on with Ciri’s ukulele teacher. Lambert was pestering him for the chords of the previous songs but Jaskier was reluctant to give up his secrets. 

“Come on you bastard!” Lambert growled. “A favour for Ciri’s favourite uncle?”

Jaskier put his tray down and rested his hand on his hip with a smirk. “I thought Eskel was Ciri’s favourite uncle?”

Lambert looked like he wanted to wrestle the teacher to the ground. “Who told you that? Geralt? He’s a fucking liar.”

Jaskier just laughed and Geralt smiled fondly across at him like he’d hung the moon. “Ciri told me actually.”

“Bollocks!” Lambert growled. 

“It’s true!” Jaskier argued. 

“Fuck that!”

“I am wounded that you don’t believe me. Geralt, tell him!” Jaskier pouted. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Geralt smirked. 

Renfri watched the whole exchange as she pulled one of the sandwiches off the tray. Perhaps she shouldn’t have eaten the cake first but what was the point in being an adult if you couldn’t eat dessert first?

She was absolutely stunned and how quickly Lambert and Jaskier seemed to have bonded. Her friend was probably just a bit starstruck from meeting Dandelion. What was it about this teacher that had her friends acting all silly? 

He was too chatty and annoying. 

Ok so maybe she was jealous. 

Maybe she was scared. 

She sighed. 

She just didn’t want to be left behind as her friends began to find partners. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. Geralt’s eyes flashed to her and he frowned and pulled out his phone. After a few seconds her phone beeped in her pocket. 

_G —You’re not fine._

Renfri looked up at him and rolled her eyes. 

— _Renfri. You’re not fine._

She sighed and frowned at him before tapping out a reply, zoning out of the conversation at the table. 

_R —He seems nice._

She tilted her head towards Jaskier who was bickering with Lambert and seemingly oblivious to their silent conversation. 

Geralt just nodded and raised an eyebrow. She sighed. 

_— You’re family, White Wolf. I will not lose you_

“Geralt!” Jaskier gripped Geralt’s arm. “Geralt are you even listening to me?”

Geralt looked up from his phone at Jaskier like a man seeing the sun for the first time, and then smirked. “Not at all.”

Jaskier gasped and sat back in his chair. “Wow. I mean wow really. Here I am, singing your praises about how wonderful a father you are to Ciri and you aren’t even paying attention!” 

“You didn’t miss much.” Lambert grunted. 

“Rude!” Jaskier pointed a finger at the ginger. “All of you, rude! I should have just stuck with my kids. They love me.”

“Someone has to.” Renfri snorted. 

“Renfri.” Geralt grumbled in a low voice. 

“No. No she’s right.” Jaskier sighed dramatically. “I am destined for loneliness and heartbreak.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and punched Jaskier in the arm. “Shut up, Jask.”

Jaskier stuck his tongue out at Geralt. 

“I can’t believe you’re friends with him.” Renfri groaned to Geralt. 

“It’s a difficult task but I do my best.” Jaskier winked and to her surprise Renfri actually laughed. 

She crossed her arms in front of her chest “Yeah well. Don’t go thinking you’re special just because you’re new.”

Jaskier smiled brightly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and then patted him hard on the back. The teacher yelped at the sudden contact and she laughed. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. The whole gym sequence was just me being a raging bisexual. I just want to see Renfri and Lambert spar... for science. 
> 
> Umm... ooh yes. St Julian was a reference to [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24128269) by Kateis_Cakeis in which Jaskier is a god that's taken human form. Markus is great. Go send him some love. 
> 
> And I'm also on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) where I mostly cry over Geraskier, Paul Bullion, Joey Batey and Book!Dandelion. It's great fun.
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> \- Wolfie


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which fire occurs... only 12 chapters into my fireman!Geralt fanfic. 
> 
> TW: Geralt has a bit of a panic attack in the shower.

Half-term was chaotic. 

Geralt would have preferred to have gotten the time off work so he could spend the week with Ciri but unfortunately the shift rota just didn’t work out this time. This meant he was already grumpy before his shifts even started. He hated leaving Ciri behind. Coën was thankfully grateful for the extra money that the hours round Geralt’s house gave him. Geralt had managed to at least get two days off during the week and he’d promised to take Ciri ice skating. He hadn’t tried ice skating since he was a child but he hoped that it was like riding a bicycle. She’d pouted at him with her big shining green eyes and he’d been helpless to say no. 

He just had to make it through the day first. His stomach rumbled as he watched his leftovers spin round and round in the microwave. He’d made pasta bake with Ciri on Sunday evening and the leftovers were his lunch until his next day off, which was, thankfully, tomorrow. 

Lambert had been called out to assist the police at a road traffic accident whilst Geralt and Renfri had just gotten back from house call in Lower Posada and it was already long past his usual lunchtime. The call hadn’t really needed both of them in attendance but the owner of the house hadn’t been confident to put out their small kitchen fire by themselves so had rung the fire service. Eskel had had a few false calls, which was really just a waste of everyone’s time. The on-call team, the griffins this week, had been called in to help the wolves on their various missions. They’d just been too spread out the last couple of days and Geralt was exhausted. 

“Ger-Bear!” Renfri called as the alarms began to ring in the fire station. “We’re up! Stop slacking.”

He cursed and stopped the microwave. It looked like he was skipping lunch today, again. 

He grabbed his jacket and they all jumped into gear. They were down the pole and in the fire engine in record time. Geralt turned the keys in the ignition as Eskel slipped into the seat beside him. They keyed in the postcode into the GPS and Geralt hit the siren and the lights.

“What have we got?” Geralt asked Renfri as he navigated the traffic of Upper Posada. 

Renfri looked through the notes on her phone. “House fire in a block of flats. Cause of the fire is currently unknown but it managed to spread to the corridor before it was noticed by one of the residents returning home.”

“Fuck.” Geralt cursed. “What happened to the fire alarms?”

“Believed to be faulty. The alarms only went off when the fire reached outside of the flat.” Renfri continued. “Owner of the the flat where we think the fire started was also out at the time, he returned whilst the reporting resident was on the phone. However, we aren’t sure how many residents are still in the building. Vesemir has called Lambert so he’ll be joining us as soon as he’s finished with the RTC in Gulet.”

“Shit.” Geralt groaned. Fires in apartment buildings could be devastating if they weren’t caught early. The potential number of casualties were a lot higher than your average household. “Eskel, can you contact the landlord, get a list of everyone in the building?”

“On it.” Eskel grunted and started to flick through their list of contacts until he found the right number. 

Whilst he was on the phone the fire engine’s radio crackled to life. 

“Shrike.” Vesemir called.

“Here.” Renfri nodded as they turned into the right road. Geralt grimaced as he saw the plumes of smoke rising from the building. 

“Call me once you’re at the scene. I have information for you.” Vesemir ordered. 

“Will do, boss.” 

Geralt parked the truck in the road and turned the sirens off, leaving the lights on to alert passing traffic. The police was already at scene trying to control the crowd, they must have had a patrol in the area. They leapt into action the moment the engine had pulled to a stop. The smoke was already heavy in the air and the smell of burning plastic hit the back of his throat. Geralt grimaced as he quickly assessed the situation. Judging by the smoke billowing from the window, the fire was on the third floor and hadn’t spread yet to the other floors, but it was only a matter of time and they had to act fast. 

“Geralt!” Renfri called, the urgency in her voice startled him. “Vesemir. He didn’t want me to tell you this but… He had another call.”

“Spit it out, Renfri!” Geralt growled as she hesitated.

“Geralt… Jaskier’s up there!” 

Geralt felt his knees almost buckle underneath and he had to grab onto the fire engine to keep himself standing. 

Jaskier.

“Why didn’t he evacuate with the others?!” Geralt yelled at Renfri. 

“I don’t know!!” Renfri yelled back. “We’re wasting time!”

Geralt snarled and pulled on the rest of his protective gear so that he could go into the building. Renfri tried to protest, saying he was emotionally compromised but he ignored her. Jaskier was somewhere in that growing cloud of smoke. 

He had to save him.

Whatever the cost. 

“Focus on the fire. I’m getting him out, and call any griffins that aren’t on other jobs. There may be others.” He growled. “Did Vesemir say what floor?” 

“Fifth. Flat 5D.” 

“Thanks.”

He took a deep breath before heading into the blaze, ignoring Renfri’s protests behind him. He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He almost ran straight past the third floor in his rush to get to Jaskier. He skidded to a halt and cursed before turning back. 

The third floor was the priority. He had to check for residents nearest the fire first. If he didn’t and there were casualties then it would be on him. Their deaths would be his responsibility.

“Fuck!” He yelled into the ever growing heat. Every step he spent on the third floor was torture. His soul was pulling him to the fifth floor but he couldn’t lose his cool. He needed to remain professional. Renfri was right. He was compromised. “Damn it, Jaskier.” He snarled. 

He located the cause of the fire in one of the flats as he navigated the flames. The structure of the building growing more unstable by the second. The oven was completely charred and there was no saving the rest of the flat but thankfully it was empty, just like the reports had said. He quickly radioed Eskel to confirm the cause of the fire before moving to safer ground. He yelled out as he check the rest of the floor as quickly as he could. Once he was certain it was clear he sprinted up the final sets of stairs. 

“Jaskier!!” He called loudly. The sound of burning was quieter on the fifth floor but he could still feel the heat from the floor below. He squinted through the smoke at the numbers on the doors until he found 5D. 

He kicked through the door. He winced as he felt the shock of the impact shudder up his leg. “JASKIER!” He called again. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was uncharacteristically weak. “I’m in here!”

Geralt snarled. ‘In here’ was not a useful description but he tried his best to locate the teacher. The living room was full of instrument cases and there was a small grand piano tucked into the corner of the lounge. Geralt swallowed. He really hoped they could tame the blaze before the fire tore apart Jaskier’s home. He’d be devastated if he lost his instruments but there was no way Geralt could get them out in time. He shook his head and moved into the bathroom. “Jaskier?” He found him…

In the bath…

Naked. 

“Jaskier!” He fell to his knees in front of the tub. “What happened? Are you hurt?” 

“My ankle. The alarm went off and I slipped. I couldn’t move, Geralt.” Jaskier was visibly shaken and pale in the bright lights of the bathroom. Geralt tried not to look where he really shouldn’t but he needed to make sure his friend wasn’t badly hurt. There were no obvious burns which was good and so far there wasn’t much smoke in this part of the building. Hopefully it was just his ankle. 

“I couldn’t move.” Jaskier repeated more quietly. 

Geralt looked around. Ideally he didn’t want to pick Jaskier up with nothing to cover him but clothes were not a priority. He was hoping Jaskier had a dressing gown or something nearby that he could grab. If not a towel would have to do.

“Luckily I had my phone next to the bath. You can’t hear the music over the sound of water if it’s too far away so I had my phone on the laundry basket. I should probably invest in some speakers but then it did save my life so maybe I won’t.” Jaskier was speaking at a hundred miles an hour now Geralt had arrived. “I did try and call you first but then you didn’t pick up and I realised you must be at work so I called the emergency number instead. Weirdly not my most embarrassing phone call. ‘Hello I’m stuck in my bathtub and the building is on fire. Oh and I’m naked as a new born baby.’”

“Jaskier!” Geralt snapped, breaking off the man’s train of thought and desperately trying not to look as Jaskier drew his attention, once again, to his nakedness. “Do you have a dressing gown or anything?” Geralt asked, the mask muffled his voice but Jaskier managed to hear him clear enough. 

Jaskier, the fool, laughed. “On my bedroom floor. This was a lot sexier in my dreams.” He whined. 

“You’re delirious.” Geralt grumbled as he moved into the bedroom. “Must be smoke inhalation.”

“No really. You’d fly through the window like in the movies and carry me down the ladder.” Jaskier sighed wistfully. “It’s fucking terrifying in real life. More of a nightmare.”

Geralt found the robe and threw it into the bathroom. “Put that on and I’ll help you out.”

“You were wearing less clothes in my dreams.” Jaskier continued to ramble and Geralt realised it was probably the nerves blocking his usual filter. Whilst Geralt wasn’t a stranger to Jaskier’s flirting, the teacher usually took more care to keep their interactions on the other side of the professional line, a more light flirting that could easily be dismissed as banter between friends should someone, such as the headmaster, care to examine their growing relationship more closely. “Strangely I normally start with more clothes.”

“Hmm.” Geralt sighed and looked around the small flat impatiently. 

“Of course… by the end of the dream…” Jaskier trailed off. 

“Are you done?” Geralt pushed the door back open. 

Jaskier was leaning against the wall, hopping unstably on his good ankle. The dressing gown was fluffy and covered in yellow flowers, and Geralt just wanted to wrap the man up in his arms. 

He paused. 

Jaskier couldn’t walk.

Geralt was allowed to wrap him up in his arms. 

He grinned, thankful that he delight was hidden behind his helmet and mask, and scooped Jaskier up into his arms and over his shoulder. 

Jaskier squeaked indignantly but didn’t resist. 

“At least buy me a drink first!” He protested. 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy you one after once we get out of here.”

Jaskier laughed. “Is that a promise, dearest?”

Geralt needed to get them out of here, and quickly. The fire was no longer the most dangerous thing in the building. If Jaskier didn’t shut up soon, Geralt’s heart was going to burst from his chest. 

“If we survive.” He grumbled mostly to himself. 

Geralt carried Jaskier to the window, flinging it open with only a little difficulty. He managed to radio Eskel to confirm that he’d found the teacher. Eskel radioed back to confirm receipt of the message and the ladder on top of the fire truck was already moving towards them.

Really Geralt should have entered the building through the window to start with but he would be the first to admit that he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly. He wondered if that was how Vesemir had felt all those years ago when Geralt had been trapped in his bedroom by the burning embers of his house. Jaskier was still wittering away over his shoulder but he didn’t put the man down. The weight on his shoulder was a comforting one. He’d managed to rescue Jaskier. That was all the mattered. 

Eskel’s voice crackled in his ear to confirm the rest of the residents had thankfully managed to evacuate without a problem. 

Of course it would be Jaskier that was the problem. 

By the time the reached the street both Lambert and the griffins had arrived on the scene. Lambert, Renfri and a handful of the on call fighters were spraying gallons of water into the smoking windows to douse the flames. Eskel was supervising the operation, since Geralt had dived straight into flames, and liaising with the other emergency services that now crowded outside the burning building. 

Geralt dumped Jaskier into the waiting ambulance and pulled off his helmet. He looked down at his friend, searching his face for any obvious injuries or signs of trauma. 

“Jaskier.” He voice cracked now the adrenaline of walking through fire had begun to crash out of his system. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes. 

He opened them when he felt Jaskier’s hand on his cheek. “I’m ok, Geralt.”

Geralt wanted to say so many things. 

Like how fucking worried he was. 

Like how he had wanted to tear the building apart just to find him. 

Like how he’d felt like his heart was shattering when he pictured Jaskier’s dead body trapped under burning debris. 

He couldn’t say any of that. The words just stuck in his throat as he was shooed away by the paramedics. He growled at them and headed back over to join Eskel. 

The blond fireman was seething. 

“What the fuck were you thinking, Geralt?” Eskel shoved a clipboard into his chest. 

Geralt groaned and turned away. 

“Years of training. Over a decade of experience, and you almost throw it all away in a heartbeat!” Eskel continued. “You’re lucky Vesemir isn’t here.”

“Oh really!” Geralt spun back around and snapped at his friend. “Because you are doing a damned good impression of him.”

“You just charged headfirst into a burning building without following any of our standard safety procedures!” Eskel yelled back. 

“He was in danger!” 

Eskel rubbed his face and groaned. “That’s our job, Geralt. Every single day!”

“I know!” Geralt sighed. “I know.” He repeated more quietly. 

“Why?” 

“Because I—”

Geralt cut himself off with a snarl. 

“He’s my friend.”

“Go home, Geralt.” Eskel sighed. “You can’t work like this. You’ll put us all at risk. Go home and come back Friday with your head screwed on right.” 

Geralt shook his head. “Vesemir.”

“I’ll cover for you. Go.”

Geralt glanced back over to Jaskier but the paramedics were still fussing over him. He sighed and decided it would be best to give him some space. Maybe he could text him after dinner just to make sure he was alright. He had just had a traumatic experience after all. 

“Fine.” He grumbled and sauntered over to the fire engine to get his stuff. 

They were too far out from his flat and he’d have to call a taxi. He groaned when he realised he would have to explain to Ciri why he was home early. She’d go ballistic when she heard about Jaskier. He was sure that they news would get back to the school eventually. That place was like a cesspit of rumours. Nothing happened in Posada without all the teachers knowing and more often of not the kids found out too.

He glanced down at his clothes. He was still wearing his uniform and he stank like smoke but his normal clothes were still back at the station. He really didn’t want to go back to the station. He couldn’t face Vesemir’s disappointment. 

“Ah fuck!” 

The taxi ride was an uncomfortable affair but there was the promise of a hot shower on the other side so he kept quiet and endured. 

Coën was surprised to see him when he slunk into the kitchen. Coën and Ciri been sparring in the small living room with long tube balloons, and Ciri had what looked like blood red lipstick streaked across her cheeks as warpaint.

She screamed excitably when she saw him and ran to give him a hug. He picked her up easily and buried his face in her long hair. 

“Ewww!” She squealed. “Dad you stink!” 

He hummed in agreement. He really did need a shower, the smell of smoke was driving him mad. 

“Everything alright, Mr Rivia?” Coën asked, looking concerned. 

He nodded. “Yeah. Rough day. Can you watch her whilst I have a shower?” 

“Sure thing.” 

“I still need to save the princess from the evil sorcerer!” Ciri grinned. 

Geralt forced a laugh for his daughter. “Is that what this is for?” He smudged the lipstick on her cheek.

“Dad!” She whined. “Yes! It’s to help me get through the wards.”

Geralt furrowed his brow. “The wards?”

“That the sorcerer put up to keep the princess prisoner!” Ciri rolled her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

Geralt raised his eyebrows at Coën who just shrugged. “Where did you get the… paint?”

Ciri grinned. “Coën!”

“Ummm. Yeah. That’s mine.” Coën shuffled awkwardly. 

Geralt was a little surprised but just nodded. “Nice colour. I’ll be right back, little lion cub.”

The water burned against his skin as he rested his forehead against the cool tiles in the bathroom. He mind was still reeling from the day. How did it all go wrong so fast? He closed his eyes and he was back in the building. The scent of burning hung thick in the air. The flames flickered at the debris and bits of glass cracked under his feet. He couldn’t breathe. 

There was too much smoke. 

And his chest was on fire. 

His knees buckled underneath him and only just managed to catch himself from falling in the bath. 

He cursed and spun the tap towards cold. 

The jet thundering down on the top of head turned to ice and his muscles shuddered at the sudden change of temperature. 

He finished off quickly under the icy water and got dressed. Coën and Ciri were still dancing around the living room playing their make believe game. He watched them from the doorway for a few minutes with a soft smile before she noticed him and leapt forward to attack with her wooden sword that had now replaced the balloon. He noticed her green balloon was lying in tatters on the sofa.

His stomach rumbled and Ciri laughed. “You have a monster in your stomach!” 

“How about a takeaway?” He asked sheepishly.

“Pizza?”

He nodded. “Is there any other kind?”

Ciri ordered a pepperoni pizza and Geralt went for a meat feast. They had invited Coën to stay for dinner but the teenager declined the offer. Geralt didn’t blame him. Coën had spent most of his half term around their house to look after Ciri. He was probably desperate to go and meet his own friends. 

There were cuddled up together on the sofa munching on pizza and watching one of Ciri’s favourite cartoons when Geralt’s phone rang. 

He scowled as he pulled the device from his pocket, assuming it was going to be Vesemir yelling at him for leaving half way through his shift or blatantly ignoring all their training in order to save Jaskier. 

But it wasn’t Vesemir.

It was Jaskier.

He hit the accept call button and shuffled off Ciri to go to the kitchen. 

“Oh hello!” Jaskier stammered on the other end of the line. “Wasn’t sure whether you would pick up.”

He hummed, unsure on how to reply. They didn’t talk very often on the phone, preferring to communicate via email or the odd text. It stopped the friendship from seeming like… more. He rang Jaskier if he was struggling to find the right words or occasionally Jaskier would ring him if he was busy cooking dinner or composing something new on one of his many instruments. 

“I hoped you would.” Jaskier continued. “I… I wanted to say thank you.”

“It’s my job.” He frowned. He always felt uncomfortable when people thanked him for doing his job. What was he supposed to do? Not do his job and let them die?

“True. That’s true.” Jaskier admitted. “Well, you should thank me more often then. Quite frankly I do a remarkable job in teaching Ciri’s class.”

Geralt laughed. “And you’re so modest about it too.”

Jaskier’s melodic laughter joined his on the other end of the line. “Naturally! Did you know I go to sign language classes every weekend on top of what we learn during the week?”

Geralt tilted his head. “No. You never mentioned that.”

“It’s important and really I’m disappointed in myself for not learning sooner.” Jaskier sighed. 

“You can’t please everyone, Jask.” He growled. 

Jaskier audibly gasped. “You take that back! I can! It’s my party trick.”

Geralt shook his head with a smile and rolled his eyes at his friend. “How’s your ankle?”

“Fucking sore!” The teacher whined. “Not broken though, just sprained. The real casualty was my dignity.”

Geralt snorted.

“Is there any chance we can just forget everything I said in my flat?” Jaskier asked. 

“Hmm…” Geralt paused, pretending to think about it. “Not everything.”

“Bollocks!” Jaskier groaned. “Come on, Geralt, please!” 

“Nope.”

“Who do I have to kill to make it go away?” Jaskier moaned.

Geralt smirked. “No killing.”

“Awww” Jaskier whined and Geralt could picture his pout easily. “But Geralt!”

“How are you a teacher?” 

“Charm, good looks and a dash of smouldering personality.” Jaskier laughed.

Ciri started yelling at him about his food going cold and he sighed. 

“Ciri?” Jaskier asked sadly. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” 

They was few seconds of silence between them as they were both reluctant to say goodbye. 

“Jask?”

“Yes, dear?” Jaskier asked, hope brightening up his voice and Geralt’s heart skipped a beat at the term of endearment. 

“About that drink?”

Jaskier groaned. “Freya help me.” He breathed quietly on the other end of the line. “Geralt, darling. I told you to forget what I said!”

“Friends have drinks.” Geralt added quickly.

There was a beat of silence. “Friends do have drinks.” Jaskier considered. 

“Dad!!” Ciri tugged at his arm. She had tomato sauce smeared around her face from her pizza. “Who are you talking to? You’re missing the show!”

“I’m missing the show.” He repeated to Jaskier before calling back to Ciri. “I’m coming, princess.”

“What show?” Jaskier giggled. 

Geralt peered back at the television and groaned as he saw Twilight bloody Sparkle dancing around on the box.

“Nothing important.” He grumbled. 

“Oh ho ho!” Jaskier cackled. “Now you have to tell me!”

Geralt considered his options. He was running out of time to talk to Jaskier without Ciri working out he was on the phone to her teacher. He didn’t have an excuse this time now they’d sorted out the band nonsense. Ciri would start to worry that Geralt was talking to Jaskier behind her back and something was wrong at school. He could easily just hang up and save himself the embarrassment. 

Only, he knew Jaskier enough to know that it wasn’t going to go away simply by hanging up the phone. 

Once Jaskier had his claws in something he never let go, unless he got distracted along the way.

“Dad! Come on!” Ciri pouted, a pout that could rival Jaskier’s.

“One minute.” Geralt reassured her before speaking back into the phone. “I’ll tell you over that drink.” 

Jaskier stammered incoherently over the phone for a few seconds, making Geralt laugh. “Geralt! You cannot say things like that without warning me first!”

“Your poor bisexual heart?” Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“Oh you think you’re so funny don’t you!” Jaskier huffed. 

“I’m hilarious.”

“Fuck off.” Jaskier grumbled. “But fine. Over drinks, stubborn ass.”

The line went dead saving either of them from having to say goodbye. 

He huffed a laugh and went back to sit with Ciri. 

He curled back into his side as he finished off his pizza, and if he got a little too invested in the Ponies’ latest adventure then no one else needed to know. He had thought Ciri had fallen asleep by the time he switched the tv off but she whined and shuffled around next to him, looking up at him with those big green eyes, Pavetta’s eyes. 

“Dad?”

“Yes, princess?”

She rubbed sleep from her eyes and scrunched up her nose. “What’s bisexual?” 

He frowned as he tried to work out the best way to explain it without getting too complicated. 

“You know how your grandmother and grandfather loved each other?” He started.

“Yeah.”

“And your mum and dad did too?”

Ciri scowled. “Grandma said they did. I don’t really remember.”

Fuck.

“Sorry, Princess.” He pulled her into a hug and stroked her head. “Well, that was both mums and dads loving each other right?”

“Yeah, but Kayleigh has two dads!” She added. 

“Right.” Geralt nodded. “Well, sometimes a person falls in love with another person regardless of gender.” A simplified version, not entirely accurate. For some people it wasn’t about love at all. “Like me.” He added. 

“You’re bisexual?” Ciri asked. 

Geralt nodded, he didn’t really label his sexuality but he guess it would fit if it helped her understand for now. It was better than outing Jaskier without his consent. If Ciri didn’t already know the term that meant her teacher was uncharacteristically secretive about his sexuality around his class. “You know I used to date your Auntie Yen?” Ciri nodded. “Well one day I might decide to date a guy.”

“Would you date Mr Jaskier?” Ciri asked innocently. 

Geralt ignored the ache in his chest and shook his head. “I can’t date your teacher, Cub.”

“What if he wasn’t my teacher?” 

“Time for bed.” Geralt grumbled.

“Just because I’m asking questions you don’t like!” Ciri yelled. 

Geralt sighed. “It’s just… it’s complicated, Ciri. I can’t answer that one just yet. Can you trust me on that?”

Ciri put her hands on her hips and frowned. “Fine.” 

“Thanks.” Geralt ruffled her hair and picked her up to carry her upstairs. “I’ll read you the next chapter of your book if you want?”

“Ok.” She agreed. “But I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.” He sighed.

He wondered when she had become so perceptive. She was growing up fast and he’d not even been her father for a year yet. He’d never expected that watching her growing up would be so terrifying. One day soon he wouldn’t be able to pick her up like this anymore. She buried her face in his neck as he held her tighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it! This was a really fun chapter to write. So it would be cool to know what you think! 
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/)
> 
> \- Wolfie


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: There isn't much Geraskier in this one. We join Istredd on his visit to Cidaris to visit Yennefer. Some Yen/Istredd content (in case you don't like that). I'll do a brief summary at the end of the chapter in case you aren't about this ship. After this it's very much in the background barely there.

Cidaris was a loud and bustling city. The sky was hazy and at night it glowed from all the lights of the city down below. All in all it was everything that Istredd hated. He grimaced as he sidestepped a splatter of vomit that was streaked across the pavement. The remnants of some rowdy night out the evening before. He was starting to wonder why he’d even decided to make the trip. It would only end badly. 

With Yenna, it always did. 

There was too much bitterness and betrayal in their history. 

And yet. He never stopped loving her. 

Yenna did seem to have that effect on all her lovers. It was as if she cast a spell on them and wove herself into the very fabric of their soul. It had been over a decade since he’d dated Yennefer and to this day he still felt a tug in his heart when he saw her. He’d known her since they were both children, before the operation to straighten her spine, back when no one else would even look at her. She’d changed a lot over the years. The operation had given her more opportunities in their fucked up and cruel world. Suddenly everyone else could see the beauty that he’d always seen in her and over the years she’d almost begun to resent that. 

She had never been enough to them before and now they fell at her feet. 

Istredd knew they were all fools. 

And he was the biggest fool of them all. He’d pushed her away. 

But he still loved her. 

Her extraordinary violet eyes haunted his dreams. 

Her eyes were a constant, unchanging thing in the whirlwind that was the life of Yennefer Vengerberg. Many people thought that she wore contacts to achieve the startling colour but he knew better. The unusual colouring was the result of a genetic mutation, one that made her particularly sensitive to bright light and she often got headaches as a result. She was supposed to wear sunglasses outside to protect her eyes but her vanity prevented her. Her eyes were the one thing that had always been called beautiful by those who wanted to tear her down. 

He understood why she wouldn’t want to hide that. 

He double checked the address in his phone and looked up at the building he’d stopped in front of. He chuckled softly. It was an incredibly stereotypical artsy type building. The dusty brown bricks looked on the verge of falling apart and the door was reminiscent of an old barn. It was probably some converted loft. The name of the gallery was painted haphazardly on a blackboard that was pinned above the door. He was surprised that Yenna hadn’t gone for a more modern look, the types of buildings that were a piece of art in their own right, architectural masterpieces that drew the eyes of everyone that walked past. In contrast this building blended into the rows of old shops like there was some kind of illusion spell cast over the old bricks. 

On second thoughts that was very much like Yenna. 

He took a deep breath and then pushed the door open. Inside the old, almost derelict, exterior was an entirely different world. Yenna must have hired some kind of sorcerer to do the interior design. It seemed as if the room was about twice the size as he should have been. The room was bright white and sterile, the floors were almost glittering from the lights that were scattered evenly across the room. Yennefer was sitting at the far end of the room, engaged in conversation with one of her patrons, a petite artist in a button up and high-waisted jeans, their hair was a vibrant turquoise and coifed messily on top of their head. 

Yenna looked up when she heard him enter and smiled brighter than the sun. 

“Is! You made it.” She patted her friend on the shoulder and glided across the room. “I wasn’t sure whether you would come.”

“For you, Yenna, always.” He said sincerely and she scoffed. 

“Now now. Don’t get sentimental on me now.” She chided as she linked her arm with his. “Come on. We can talk in the back room.”

“The gallery is beautiful.” He hummed, awkwardly trying to make small talk with his ex. “You’ve done well, Yenna.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She smirked as they entered a smaller room at the back of the gallery. 

This room was cosier than the gallery floor. There was a large sofa, that took up most of the space, which was covered in soft teal and gold blankets and an array of cushions. Beside the sofa was a small fridge and table with a kettle and microwave balanced on the top. It wasn’t the most functional of rooms but it was warm and lit with a string of fairy lights that were hung across the ceiling. 

“I should have visited sooner.” He said, his voice full of regret.

“Yes.” She cast him a disparaging look. “You should have.”

“I was so busy at work and finishing my doctorate. Years just faded away into nothing. I’m sorry.” It was a weak excuse but it was the truth. He was in the final stage on submitting his final thesis that would grant him his PhD and he would, at last, be a Doctor of History and Archaeology, a dream he’d had since childhood. 

After that he was considering leaving Dol Blathanna behind. He loved teaching and the age group that he taught were just beginning to understand the potential of history and how the study of the often misunderstood subject could help them to better understand how society had developed and predict the patterns of the future but he was starting to grow tired of the same routine year in year out. As teachers their hands were tied behind their backs and they were forced to stick to some Government syllabus filled with eras of history that really didn’t interest him. It was all modern history, events that had happened over the last few decades but his passion lay with ancient history, the long forgotten secrets that were found in dusty temple ruins or trapped under layers of ash and dirt. There was evidence to suggest that their earliest ancestors lived in a society where, what they would call, magic existed, runes carved into the altars, daggers, staffs. 

It was fascinating and he was determined to unearth more of their secrets. He was unsure whether the magic was real or more of a belief system, similar to their current religions but he wanted to know. He needed to know. 

Yenna’s hand on his arm pulled him back into the room and he looked into her violet eyes, shining with hope with a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Why now?” He asked.

He’d been surprised when she’d texted him earlier in the week asking for him to visit the city that she now called home. They’d been messaging back and forth since she’d visited the school back in October, trying to rekindle their friendship. It had been strange at first. Even when she’d been teaching at the school, they hadn’t really associated one on one. Triss was often right there by her side and they’d fallen out of touch after she’d moved to Cidaris. 

And then out of the blue she’d decided to give him her number and now they were texting on almost a daily basis, as if the last decade hadn’t happened at all. 

“Nostalgia.” She said with a shrug as she fell ceremoniously onto the sofa. “Regret, maybe?”

He frowned. “Regret?”

“All those moments we missed because I couldn’t forgive you.” She shrugged and threw a pillow at him. “Oh for Lilit’s sake. Sit down.”

He perched on the edge of the sofa and she dumped her feet on his lap. “I didn’t deserve forgiveness.”

She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. Her violet eyes almost glowing in the dimly lit room. He wondered, not for the first time, whether she had fae blood running through her veins. “No, but was that really worth losing decades of friendship over?”

He furrowed his brow but she didn’t let him answer.

“I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you though.” She watched his reaction carefully. “Just that maybe it’s time to move on.”

“Like you did with Geralt?” He whispered, his words cutting through the air like a knife and he knew instantly he’d made a mistake. She recoiled from him and shifted as far from him as was possible in the tiny room, but he couldn’t take the words back now so he continued. “I never stopped loving you and you knew that.”

“Is.” She sighed.

“You just flitted around in front of me with him and I just had to watch as he broke your heart over and over again!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice but they’d never managed to get the closure of their relationship and this was a discussion they’d been putting off for years. 

“And how was that any worse than you breaking my heart?” Yennefer challenged. “Almost destroying my career, my livelihood. Years of teaching in that pathetic school because Aedirn tarnished my name and reputation. It took years for me to rebuild that! You don’t get to be angry about Geralt because of your petty jealousy.”

He closed his eyes and sighed before reaching out and taking her hand gently in his. “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have invited you here.” 

His heart clenched in his chest. “Yenna.”

“I should have known but the universe fucking hates me.” She turned away from him but she didn’t make any attempt to take her hand back. “You’re the only one that ever saw me, Is. The rest of them never knew what I was like before. How difficult it was to wake up every single day, knowing the looks I’d get. The pity, the scorn, the hatred, but you knew me and you still wanted to be my friend, more than that even.”

“I still want that.” He answered quietly. “I’ve always wanted that but it’s been almost twelve years, Yenna.”

“So why now?” She repeated his earlier question. He nodded and she sighed. “The truth?”

“The truth tends to help.”

“The truth is shit.” She spat out bitterly. 

He squeezed her hand and pulled her towards him so she could tucked herself into his side, just like so many years ago. 

“I don’t know what it is, was, about Geralt. It was like an addiction. No matter how many fights we had or how many times we tore each other apart, we always ended up back at the beginning again.” She said softly and he swallowed down his jealousy. 

He’d seen that happen many times since they’d broken up, it was part of the reason he felt so much hatred towards the man. He wanted to be the one that Yenna couldn’t stay away from despite of their breakup. 

“And when we broke up a couple of years ago. We said it was final, I said it was final. I was so tired of the fighting all the time. I was done. I wanted out. The look on his face when I… when I broke his heart. It was as if I’d shattered him but I walked away.” She laughed bitterly. “It didn’t stop that part of me from believing that it was just another bump in the road.”

“And now?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his touch. 

“I’ve had lovers since Geralt.” She sighed sadly. “One night stands, a few short term relationships.”

“Chireadan?”

She looked up at him in surprise. 

“He’s been pining over you ever since.”

“Yes well. He was a sweet thing.” She smirked. “It was never going to last but I digress. Did you know Geralt hasn’t dated properly since we last broke up?”

Istredd shook his head. “The amount everyone fawns over him. I assumed he would have his pick of lovers.”

“And he never looked at any of them, not really.”

Istredd felt as if he could hear the penny drop. 

“Until now.”

“I don’t even know what Geralt sees in him.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. “He’s so annoying!”

“Him?” Istredd raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t known Yennefer’s ex was flexible in his sexuality.

Yenna laughed. “You don’t know? I thought the rumour mill at Dol Blathanna would have been all over this.”

Istredd shook his head. “The only gossip about Geralt is between Mr Pankratz and Triss.”

Yennefer hissed under her breath. “I knew Geralt was just her type!” She scowled and then spoke louder. “But if you don’t know then I won’t spoil the surprise. Plus the idiots don’t seem to even realise they’re dating. They insist it’s just friendship.”

He was curious but knew Yenna enough to know that if she wanted to keep secrets then there was nothing he could say to stop her. He had a feeling that he knew who she was talking about though. If she thought the teachers at the school would know about Geralt’s secret affair then that meant it was likely one of them, and the only real candidate that fit Yenna’s description was Jaskier. 

“So Geralt’s moved on, and now I’m here.” Istredd surmised. 

“Well it sounds terrible when you put it like that.”

“I’m not going to be your second choice, Yenna. Don’t ask that of me.” He begged. 

She pulled away from his chest so she could look at his face, and his resolve almost crumbled on the spot. 

Loving Yennefer Vengerberg was such sweet torture. 

“How about a friend?” She asked and he nodded, that much he could do. 

* * *

His resolve hadn’t lasted very long.

They’d gone out for a late lunch shortly after their conversation in the backroom of Yennefer’s gallery. He’d caught her up with all the non-Geralt related gossip from the staffroom, rumours running rife about the headmaster’s conduct at work. He’d always been on the creepy side but the women on the staff had finally begun to talk about their experiences with the headmaster after Miss Findabair had flown into the staffroom one day complaining about Stregobor making a move on her. Triss had piped up with a similar experience of her own and it had turned into a much larger and longer discussion. 

Yenna had scoffed and noted that she would have had a few of her own stories to add.

The whole topic had split men in the staffroom into two camps. There were some shits, Valdo Marx and Sorel Degerlund being two of the loudest voices, that fully supported Stregobor, claiming his behaviour was just light hearted teasing and there was nothing wrong with that. Triss and Tissaia had had to hold Jaskier back from tearing Valdo apart after that one. It had been a tense day in the staffroom but they now had a plan to try and expose the headmaster’s ill behaviour once and for all. 

Yenna listened throughout his story, her eyes burning like fire, gripping her wine glass so hard that he thought it might shatter in her hands. By the time he’d finished she’d pulled out her phone to text Triss, Stregobor was going down and Yennefer was going to help in any way she could. Not that he expected any less. Her feelings may be well-guarded but Yennefer would always help when it was in her power to do so. 

After that they’d moved to lighter topics. He discussed his thesis in great depth and, although she clearly found the subject matter a little dull, she listened and even managed to make some well timed jokes. In turn she told him all about her growing art gallery. It was still a fairly new enterprise for her, funded by the success of her art critic career. She was still in high demand when it came to her vlog and she had been known to make or break careers of young artists. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of Yennefer Vengerberg. She told him that she’d been invited to Beauclair in two weeks time for a week long art festival and asked him to join her over the weekend if he wasn’t too bogged down with work. It would be tough to make it. They were half way through the year now, the second half of spring term would be starting on Monday, and his tutor group would be starting to prepare for their mock exams and the province of Toussaint was not an easy journey from his house in Gulet. 

Still, when she’d looked up at him with those magical eyes, dark raven hair falling softly in front of her face, he’d been helpless to argue. He’d almost booked train tickets to Beauclair on the spot.

There’d been a tension in the air between them that had been growing throughout lunch. Despite agreeing to remain as friends it had been all too easy to slip into an easy flirtatious repartee now that there wasn’t a third party in the conversation. It had been too easy to forget the years they’d spent apart and they fell into their old routine, artfully avoiding topics like Geralt or Aedirn, and the night had ended, rather spectacularly, in the bedroom. 

No. His resolve hadn’t lasted very long at all, he thought to himself as her hands threaded into his hair and he stared up at the ceiling. 

“So…” He broke the silence with some hesitation. 

“You’re over thinking this, Is.” Yennefer said stoically and rolled off the bed to gather her clothes. His eyes followed her across the room, lingering on the jagged scar that cut down the length of her spine. “We’re both adults, this doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

He nodded. “And if I do?” 

She glanced over a shoulder back at him with a disbelieving smile. “Then we have a lot more to talk through.” She was right of course. “You said it yourself. You don’t want to be second choice.” She pulled on her dress with an enviable grace. “And we’re both different people than we were when we were teenagers.”

“I can’t move to be with you.” He added. 

Back when they had been teenagers he had been willing to give up everything to follow Yenna wherever her career took her, before he’d accidentally fucked the entire relationship up with his foolish naivety. She’d managed to convince him that he could continue his studies and research anywhere and he’d believed her but now he had his kids to think of and after that he was going to apply to teach at Oxenfurt. 

It was an ambitious dream but it was his. 

She frowned and finished getting dressed swiftly. “Are you staying the night here or did you have other accommodation?” She asked sharply. 

“Can I stay?” He asked softly. “Or would you prefer me to find hotel?”

She refused to meet his eyes as she answered. “Do what you want, Istredd. Melitele knows you always do.”

He laughed at that. “I do what I want?” He scoffed.

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going for a shower. Stay or leave. I don’t care.”

She did care.

He knew that. The sharp remarks and hard mask that she hid behind were all signs that she cared. It was easy to rise to her baited taunts but underneath it all he knew it was because she cared. 

He sighed. Before she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable with him. He’d lost that privilege along with her trust. Yenna was right. They would have a lot to talk about before they could even consider the idea of being anything more than friends. He just needed to work out whether it was all worth the effort. He closed his eyes and lay back onto the bed.

Who was he kidding?

Yenna would always be worth the effort. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so debrief in case Yen/Istredd is not your thing! 
> 
> The main things you need to know is Yen suspects Jaskier and Geralt are dating (even if they don't realise it) and the teachers of the school are starting to make plans against Stregobor after they realise he's been harrassing the female staff members.
> 
> Comments make for a happy writer! Or Come follow me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/)
> 
> -Wolfie


	14. Chapter 14

Jaskier ran down the corridors of Dol Blathanna. His guitar case was slung haphazardly over his shoulder and books were on the verge on tumbling out of his satchel. His blasted alarm hadn’t gone off this morning, although that was probably his own fault for getting so caught up in his book that he’d forgotten to set the alarm before falling asleep with the book still in his hands. Luckily for him he’d still woken up at a vaguely reasonable time and on any normal day he would have made it into school before his class had started to arrive. 

Unfortunately it wasn’t an ordinary day. 

An email had been sent out to all the faculty the night before from the school board, calling a meeting in the school hall before class started. 

And he was already late. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He muttered as he ran. A book flew from his satchel as he turned the corner in the corridor. “Oh cock!” 

He turned on his heels and ran to gather up his book only for two more to fall out of his bag along with several loose sheets of paper. 

“Shit!” He grabbed another one of his books but his foot caught on one of the bits of paper. 

It all happened in slow motion. 

His legs were suddenly up in the air and he landed, quite painfully, on his arse. His guitar case dropped heavily on the floor next to him, strings twanging in the case and his heart sunk as he heard a sickening crack of wood. 

“Bollocks!” He groaned and scrambled to open his case. 

Sure enough the neck of the guitar had broken and the strings were the only thing keeping it together. 

“No no no!” He stood up and kicked the case. “Fuck!” 

That was all he needed. It was bad enough that the rest of his instruments were currently in storage whilst his landlord managed to sort out the repairs to the apartments. He was incredibly lucky that none of them had been damaged in the fire. Geralt’s team had gotten the fire under control quickly and the blaze hadn’t managed to spread much further than the third floor. A few of his neighbours from the fourth floor had lost some of their furniture and the flooring had been toasted but Jaskier had had a lucky, if not humiliating escape. Unfortunately he wasn’t allowed to stay in his flat whilst they made repairs. There were concerns that the ceiling below his flat sustained some damage, making his home unfit to live in. 

He was currently staying with Triss in her little bungalow. He was lucky she had a guest room and allowed him to bring his guitar along with him but she’d put her foot down at his wider instrument collection, he had said goodbye to his precious lute with a heavy heart as he’d locked his storage unit. 

He was less lucky that she hadn’t thought to wake him up this morning.

He scooped up the remains of his guitar and zipped up the case. He didn’t have time to mourn. This time he was smart enough to close his satchel properly too and he scurried towards the school hall. He pushed the heavy door open as quietly as he could and slipped inside. A woman stood at the front of the hall where Stregobor would normally stand. 

How peculiar.

She glared fiercely at him and he muttered an apology and ran to find a seat. 

“As I was saying.” The woman continued, still holding his gaze in a death stare. He swallowed nervously as he begun to wonder whether he’d been cursed today. Nothing had gone his way so far. “We have received several alarming reports regarding your headmaster. Therefore, the board has made the decision to temporarily suspend Mr Ban-Ard whilst we conduct an investigation into his behaviour.” 

Jaskier couldn’t help but smile. 

They’d done it.

The whole case had blown up just before half-term. Jaskier and several of the other faculty members had written some very strongly worded emails to the school board to highlight the nasty goings on in the school. He was aware that Yennefer Vengerberg had also been involved. Istredd had told them with a very smug smile on his face. Jaskier supposed he’d finally pulled his head out his arse and done something about that ridiculous crush of his. 

Two weeks into the new term and they’d gotten rid of the pervert. He wanted to cheer.

“Furthermore.” The woman said sharply. “We were also made aware of other members of staff supporting Mr Ban-Ard’s views in his treatment of women. I’m sure you will have noticed that not all your colleagues are in the room.”

There was a rumble of noise as everyone looked around. Jaskier met Triss’s eyes and she seemed relieved to see him. He scanned the room looking for his nemesis. 

“Oh this is good.” He mumbled to himself, barely able to keep his excitement contained. 

Valdo Marx was absent. 

He grinned and linked his fingers in his lap. Maybe he wasn’t cursed after all. 

“They have also been suspended until we can ensure that they are not able to use their influence as teachers to encourage this sort of behaviour in our students.” The woman continued with a rather sinister smile. It would have been sexy if it wasn’t so darn right terrifying. She reminded him in many ways of Yennefer. 

“Of course, if nothing is proven against those who have been suspended then they will be allowed to continue teaching. In the meantime I’d like to introduce you to Mr Filavandrel Fidháil and Mr Mousesack Ermion. They will be filling in for Mr Marx and Mr Degerlund. I do trust that you will treat them both with the utmost respect. Finally, Ms de Vries will be acting as your new headmistress for the time being. If there are any problems she will be reporting to me directly.”

After a few more minutes the woman in charge let them go and the room burst into noise as everyone began to gossip about what had happened. Of course, by now everyone knew about the whole affair. When one teacher knew something then it was only a matter of time before the whole school knew. Jaskier found Triss first, wanting to catch up on what he’d missed. 

“You’re awake then.” She teased as he approached. 

He put his hands on his hips. “No thanks to you!”

“I thought you were just being slow.” She defended herself. “We both know you’re not a morning person, Jaskier.”

He waved his hands dismissively. “I’m a great person in the mornings!”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“It just has to be with the right person.” He smirked. 

She rolled her eyes and hit him on the arm. “Gross.”

He laughed. “I know. I know!” He whined. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a while.”

“Still pining after your sexy fireman?”

“Not my fireman.” He grumbled. “and I am yearning! I am dying of thirst.”

“Can’t believe you were late!” Triss giggled. “I thought Philippa was going to kill you!”

He frowned as he tried to recall the name. He was certain that none of the staff were called Philippa. He’d even written a song to help him remember all of their names. “Who?”

“Philippa Eilhart, the person we’ve been listening to for the last fifteen minutes?” 

“Ooohh.” He nodded. “I was just calling her. ‘The Woman’”

“Very ominous.”

“Maybe she’ll be the next star of my new song.” He pondered. “She certainly knew how to control a room.” He went to pull his guitar case round to his front but he froze as he felt the broken wood beneath the leather. “Bollocks!” He moaned. “I’ll never write again!”

Triss rolled her eyes as they reached her desk at the front of the school. “Are you sure you’re not one of your six year olds?”

“My guitar broke!” He pulled out the dead instrument and laid it forlornly on her desk. “I fell. Just look at it.” He cried. “And all my other instruments are still in storage! I can’t bring my lute into class everyday, it’s too fragile and far too expensive. I need my guitar!” 

Triss patted him patronisingly on the shoulder. “Chin up, Buttercup. Maybe your fireman will by you a new one.”

He gaped and stumbled backwards at her remark. “Not. My. Fireman!” He pointed at her accusingly. “You are the actual worst, Triss Merigold. No wonder Yennefer loves you.”

She smirked. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“It’s not.”

“Now kindly get your precious instrument—”

“Dead instrument.”

“—off of my desk. I’ve got to work.” She finished with a pointed look. 

He sighed and picked up his guitar. The kids would be here soon and he needed to get ready for the day. 

* * *

Ciri was crying and once again Jaskier had decided that he’d been cursed. 

The beginning of the day had gone smoothly after his guitar incident. They were picking up their numbers excellently and they’d even begun to write little short stories of their own. Jaskier was incredibly proud of his young authors. Once their stories were finished, the kids were going to split into groups and act out each one. It was all fun and games and the arts really help to improve their imaginations and confidence. They had been sad when he told them that they wouldn’t be singing along to his guitar today but Kayleigh had suggested that the could make their own instruments which Jaskier thought was a fabulous idea. After lunch they were going to be making tissue box guitars if he could raid the supply cupboard and collect all the tissues into one box. As long as the cleaners didn’t spot him then he would be fine. 

Probably. 

Although knowing how this day was going he would be caught and lose his job. 

But that was neither here nor now. Right now he had one screaming child on his hands. 

She had forgotten her lunchbox and it wasn’t a Friday so Geralt hadn’t given her money for a hot lunch. 

“I’m going to starve!” She cried in between sobs. 

He wondered, for a moment, whether his love for dramatics was rubbing off on his children in a bad way. 

He knelt down in front of her so he was at her level. “Ciri, look at me, Buttercup.”

She sniffed but met his eyes. Her cheeks were tearstained and her eyes were red and puffy. He tilted his head and opened his hands in front of him so that she could take them, if she wanted, which she did. 

“Do you trust me, Ciri?” He asked softly and she nodded. “Good. Now I promise you that I won’t let you go hungry.”

“But my lunchbox!” She sobbed. 

“I know.” He nodded and squeezed her hands. “But we can fix it. Ok?”

She nodded and chewed at her lip. 

“I can either call your father and get him to bring your lunch box.” She scrunched up her nose. 

“No he’ll hate me!” She cried. “It’s all my fault and he’ll send me away!”

Jaskier took a deep breath to calm himself. Geralt would never abandon Ciri like that and it broke his heart that she would think that, but it was so easy to forget the circumstances that brought her to Geralt in the first place. 

“Oh Ciri. It’s ok to be frightened but I promise you that Geralt would never do that.” He stumbled backwards as she threw her arms around him and cried more into his chest. “Come on, let’s get to Reception and we can call your father.”

“Nooo.” Ciri whined into his chest. 

Jaskier was going to offer to pay for her lunch for the day as a second option, he knew Geralt would pay him back. Not that he wanted Geralt to pay him back, he still felt indebted to the man after the fire, but he couldn’t be seen to be favouring Ciri by paying for her lunch. It didn’t matter anyway. Ciri needed to see her father wouldn’t leave her so he wasn’t even going suggest the hot lunch option. 

He pulled her gently to her feet and extracted himself from her arms and then turned to face the rest of the class. 

He waved to get everyone’s attention before talking, signing as he went. “I’m just going to Reception, with Ciri. I’ll ask Mr Fidháil to take you to the dining room. You’ll be good for him won’t you?” 

The class chorussed their agreement with the exception of Marilka who grinned cheekily and said ‘No’. 

He tilted his head in her direction and gave her a warning look. “What was that, dear Buttercup?”

She giggled. “Yes, Mr Jaskier!” 

“That’s what I thought.” He shook his head. She was certainly a handful. “Come along now Ciri.”

He crossed the hall to Filavandrel’s room and asked him to keep on eye on his class whilst he went to the reception with Ciri. It would have been much easier if he could have just called Geralt on his own phone but that would have raised questions and ones he wasn’t prepared to answer. 

“Mr Pankratz? Ciri?” Triss asked, surprised by their appearance. By the looks of it she’d just been packing up to head to lunch herself when they’d arrived. 

“Can you call Geralt?” He asked. “Ciri has forgotten her lunch.”

Triss nodded and pulled up Geralt’s number on her screen. She was about to pick up the receiver when Jaskier stopped her.

“I can talk to him. Please.” He pleaded. 

She was too professional to call him out in front of one of his students, especially Ciri, but he could see the mischievous glint in her eyes. He’d have to pay for that one later once the kids were on break. She dialled the number and passed him the receiver. “Thanks.” He muttered and smiled down at Ciri reassuringly.”

The phone rang a few times before Vesemir picked up to announce the fire station. Triss must have used Geralt’s work number. 

“Ah. Vesemir isn’t it?” He stammered, unprepared to speak to not Geralt. 

“That’s correct. What can I help you with? If it’s an emergency you need to call the emergency line.” Vesemir sounded tired, that was a relatable feeling. 

“Oh no. No. Umm. Hi. I’m Jaskier Pankratz.”

“Geralt’s Jaskier?”

He blushed. “Umm. Well. I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“Bath tub Jaskier?” Vesemir chuckled and he realised the older fireman was teasing him. 

“Ah yes. That would be me.” He agreed reluctantly. “Is Geralt there?” 

“Why?” Vesemir asked sternly. 

“Ciri forgot her lunch today. I was wondering whether he could drop it off. It really is quite important!” Vesemir hummed in response. 

Well wasn’t that very Geralt like?

Perhaps they really were like family.

Unfortunately, Jaskier wasn’t fluent in Vesemir’s grunts like he was with Geralt. “So is that a yes?”

“He’ll be there shortly, unless we get a call.”

Jaskier grinned. “Of course. Thank you Vesemir!” He replied but it was too late. The other man had already hung up the phone.

Ciri tugged at his arm. “Is that Uncle Vesemir?” She asked.

“It was, Ciri, your father is on his way. Shall we go wait in the lunch hall so the others can start to eat?” 

She nodded with a sad smile. 

“Tell Geralt we’ll be in the lunch hall!” He called back to Triss as he walked back to his classroom with Ciri. 

“Will do.” Triss replied, Jaskier could practically hear the her eyes rolling. 

He gathered the rest of class and bundled them into the lunch hall. They were later than he would have liked and his own break time would be cut short because of it but it was a risk of teaching a younger class. He couldn’t just let them wonder around the school on their own. At least he wasn’t on break duty this week. He hated break duty. It wasn’t so bad in the summer term but in the spring it could still be cold and it meant that he didn’t get a real break until he got home. He was, however, on after school pick up duty which meant he’d have to stay late. 

Sometimes he’d stay late to finish off some marking at his desk, he didn’t really enjoy bringing his work back home, it made it harder for him to switch off when he was ready to relax in the evenings, but that was a choice. He hated being forced to stay late. 

He sighed as Ciri ran off to join her friends. He browsed the hot food options but nothing really tickled his fancy so he picked up a cheese and onion sandwich instead. Sadly, being the beginning of the week there wasn’t a good dessert option. Fridays were the best for that. They always had chocolate cake with chocolate custard on Fridays. He reluctantly picked up an orange instead of a bowl of goopy rice pudding. 

He wasn’t a fan of the rice pudding. 

He was half way through his sandwich when Geralt arrived. Ciri ran over to him and he picked her up and spun her around as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. 

Then again, Geralt had also picked him up like he weighed nothing and he was a lot larger than Ciri. 

He snapped himself out of that train of thought before he ended up daydreaming about all the different ways Geralt could throw him about, preferably up against a wall, and walked over to the pair. 

“Mr Pankratz.” Geralt greeted him as Ciri tugged her lunchbox from his hands. 

“Geralt. Hi.” He flashed the fireman a dashing smile as the ashen-haired girl ran away to eat her lunch. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice her lunchbox.” Geralt replied sheepishly. “It won’t happen again.”

“Nonsense.” Jaskier waved it off, Geralt could forget to notice more often if it meant he would come in to visit. “But I am worried about something Ciri said.”

Geralt frowned and Jaskier launched into an explanation of her tantrum and her fears about Geralt sending her away. “I know we agreed that she didn’t need to see anyone at the start of the term, but this isn’t the first time she’s overreacted when she thinks someone might leave her.” 

“She’s just a kid.” Geralt huffed. 

Jaskier nodded. “I know, my dear, but Ciri’s lost a lot already. I think she may have some form of rejection sensitivity.” Something Jaskier knew far too well. “It would do her good to be able to work through that with someone.”

Geralt pressed his fingers to his forehead. “It’s because I work too much. I can’t spend enough time with her anymore.”

Jaskier resisted the urge to hug his friend. “No. Geralt. No.”

“It was fine during Summer. We had a better routine. I could take her to see Roach every weekend. Now we’re lucky if we get to both go once a month. I rarely get weekends off anymore and she can’t go during the week. Poor Coën sees more of her than I do.”

“It’s not your fault, Geralt.” Jaskier said softly, his teacher voice seeped in slightly but it was hard to turn that off at school. “You never expected to be a single parent.”

Geralt just grunted in response.

“Just promise me you’ll consider what I’ve said, my dear.” Jaskier implored.

Geralt hummed.

“A promise needs words, Geralt.” Jaskier rolled his eyes at the fireman.

“I’m not a child, Jaskier.” Geralt grumbled but sighed when Jaskier put his hands on his hips and gave him a pointed look. “Fine. I promise I’ll think about it.”

“Excellent!” Jaskier clapped his hands together. “Now off you pop. I’m sure those wolves of yours will be missing you White Wolf.”

“Who told you about that?” Geralt snarked. 

“Not telling!” He grinned.

It had been Lambert. After they’d met in the coffee shop, Lambert had asked for Jaskier’s autograph when Geralt had been distracted on his phone. Jaskier had happily scribbled on the back of a napkin and the pair had exchanged numbers in case the band ever decided to play live then Lambert would be one of the first to know. They didn’t talk much but Lambert did enjoy sharing embarrassing stories of Geralt at work. Jaskier had even been invited to hang out with Lambert and his brother one evening. It had been a little awkward at first but Jaskier had always had a talent for making friends and he found that he enjoyed Lambert and Eskel’s company rather a lot. It had been nice to make some new friends outside of work and his band. 

“Jaskier.” Geralt almost growled which made his brain dive straight into the gutter. 

Honestly, the way Geralt said his name should be illegal. 

He couldn’t resist a wink at the fireman. “Allow me to have my secrets, dear heart.”

Geralt froze at the nickname that slipped out. 

Fuck.

He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t even know where it came from normally he just stuck with ‘my dear’ or ‘darling’ both could easily be excused as Jaskier just being flamboyant, but ‘dear heart’? He couldn’t exactly hide his feelings with that one. 

Fuck!

Geralt just smirked, and to the gods was it sexy. “Fine.”

“Good!” Jaskier stammered. 

“But.” Geralt leaned a little closer and Jaskier could almost feel the tickle of breath against his ear. His heart was thundering in his chest and he felt like he was going to pass out. “You still owe me that drink.” Geralt whispered so that no one else could hear. 

Jaskier’s cheeks lit up and his buried his face in his hands. “Geralt!” He chided. “I am working. Go on. Shoo!” 

Geralt laughed but strode out of the school hall. Jaskier’s fingers twitched by his side, desperately needing to pluck away at non-existent strings. 

He nervously looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed the interaction but everyone seemed to be engrossed in their lunches. 

Thank Freya for that. 

He managed to finish up his lunch in record time and the kids were all eager to go outside and play. He decided to spend his break at his desk. He couldn’t face Triss right now. He just knew she was going to corner him about Geralt and he didn’t have the energy to deal with that right now. 

Maybe he could go for a nap?

He glanced at the clock at the back of the classroom. 

He still had twenty five minutes. He could absolutely have a nap and the school bell would wake him up before his class came back inside. 

He sighed and rested his head on his arms. It wasn’t comfortable but he was done and it was only fucking lunchtime. 

He moaned into his desk. 

Maybe if they could just keep the flirting to a minimum until summer then everything would be alright. Once he was no longer Ciri’s teacher then he couldn’t really be accused of doing anything wrong. 

At this point he was certain that Geralt liked him back. He’d never seen the fireman flirt so openly around anyone else, he’d expected something around Renfri but really their whole vibe was more like siblings than anything else. He spoke fondly of Yennefer but again there didn’t seem to be any lingering chemistry between them, although that could very well be wishful thinking on his part, but he was good with people and he knew when people were flirting with him. 

Geralt was definitely flirting with him

No matter how many times they both insisted what they were doing was just things that friends do. 

He thought back on how his friendship with Geralt had grown. Starting with the clandestine meetings after school/work to discuss Ciri’s progress and the extra emails back and forth during the week, then after Solstice and he’d given Geralt his number leading to them occasionally hanging out in coffee shops whilst Ciri was at her Ukulele lessons with Pris and the infrequent evening phone calls if one of them had something to say that couldn’t wait until school time. 

He swallowed.

Then the fire. 

It had shaken him up more than he would have expected when he couldn’t put any weight on his ankle. He had been beginning to think he was going to burn naked in the bath and he really hadn’t wanted to greet the gods like that. 

But Geralt had appeared like his own guardian angel. He’d been hoping Geralt would turn up but it could have easily been any of the wolves. Geralt had saved his life though. He would never forget that, even if his crush turned out to be just a fleeting moment in his life and they ended up passing like ships on an ocean. 

They’d talked more frequently after that. Jaskier had had trouble sleeping the first few nights and Geralt seemed more than happy to stay up late talking to him in the evenings. Jaskier had even fallen asleep a few times whilst Geralt was still on the phone but he hadn’t seen Geralt in person since the fire. 

And he missed him. 

Fuck, he missed him.

Jaskier bumped his head against his desk a few times in frustration and then a thought hit him like a train. 

They were dating.

The stolen moments after school, the emails, the phone calls and coffee shop dates. 

They were fucking dating. 

And no one else thought to let them know!

“Shit, shit, shit!” He shot to his feet and began pacing around the room and then yelled in frustration. He needed his guitar, or his lute or something!

He tore through the drawers of his desk looking for a spare notebook. He must have one somewhere. “Come on, come on, come on!” He muttered but there nothing expect the work books of the kids. 

His fingernails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. 

What was he going to do?

They’d just been lying to themselves this whole time. 

He had to cut it off. No more reckless meetings. No more evening phone calls.

And absolutely no flirting!

He could do that. He was a professional and Geralt was a parent. He just had to treat Geralt like any other parent. He fell in and out of love all the time. This would be easy. If he had any concerns about Ciri he would ask Triss or Tissaia to relay them. There was no need for him to get involved personally, except for parents’ evening and his weekly emails. Geralt probably wouldn’t even noticed. Geralt hadn’t noticed they were dating so he wouldn’t notice if Jaskier pulled away. 

The plan formulated in his head, his hands tugging on the bottom of his shirt as he steadfastly ignored the pain in his heart. 

No more gossiping with Triss over Geralt’s quite frankly sinful body, which was a shame because their friendship had really grown since Geralt had come into their lives. He hoped their new found camaraderie would last. It was good to have a partner in crime at the school. It had made his break times a lot more entertaining.

No more hot and heavy dreams.

Ok, maybe he couldn’t control that one but he would scold himself for it in the morning!

And he had to get a grip on this! Two of his colleagues had already been suspended just for expressing misogynistic views. If either of them dared to mention his chats with Triss about Geralt as part of their defence then he was a goner and he loved his job, he loved his kids. 

His heart felt like it was burning in his chest but it was too late. 

He’d made his decision. 

If Geralt forgave him for this maybe they could try again in the summer.

He scoffed. 

Why would Geralt forgive him? He didn’t deserve that. He’d led him on all year and, if he was right, he was going to break his heart just to save his own career. 

He was a fucking idiot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact.... the end of this chapter initially went in a completely different direction. Once I've finished the story I might post it the less angsty version. I did quite like it. 
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/)
> 
> \- Wolfie


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Jaskier is not in a good place in this chapter. His mental health is clearly not good! Also there's some hints of Triss x Eskel in this chapter (in case you don't like that) but it's very minor background stuff.

The staffroom was strangely quiet. It had been ever since Stregobor had been suspended. Triss had anticipated a gleeful celebration after the man had left the building but instead the teacher’s all seemed particularly morose. It was as if they had been reminded how quickly they could lose their jobs. One wrong remark and they could been here one week and gone the next. 

There hadn’t been any updates on the investigation against Stregobor but Triss was optimistic. Somedays it seemed like she was the only one but she had to remain optimistic for her own sanity. She had to believe it had all been worth it. There had been so many testimonies against the headmaster and really he’d made hell for everyone over his years at the school. The teachers had suffered his wandering eyes and the students that he took a shine to were bullied beyond belief. It was all the other teachers could do just to shield their young pupils from his wrath, and even then it hadn’t always been successful. 

She stirred her soup with a heavy sigh. Maybe she could visit Yennefer at the weekend. A night out in Cidaris would do her some good. She glanced around the almost silent room. She missed the lunch time gossip, she missed the endless chatter and she missed the sound of Jaskier plucking at whatever instrument he’d chosen for the day. 

She barely saw her friend now. 

She thought he would have been delighted and giddy with excitement after Valdo left but that evening he’d locked himself in her guest room and that had been it. A week later he’d been allowed to move back to his flat and he’d barely glanced in her direction on the way out. 

She’d managed to corner him in his classroom one lunch break but it hadn’t gone at all well. She’d teased him about Geralt as was their way and she’d expected him to dramatically swoon or make some crude remark and then they’d giggle over it until the bell rang. 

Instead he’d practically pushed her out of the room claiming to be too busy for idle gossip about parents. 

Now instead of a cheery wave when he passed her desk in the mornings, he mumbled a strained hello before moving on. 

She was starting to wonder whether she’d done something wrong. 

Or perhaps Tissaia had challenged him over his crush on Geralt. Now she was headmistress she was responsible for ensuring the staff behaved appropriately. 

Either way something was wrong, and she was going to find out. She hated to see her friend hurting. She was going to fix this because she was Triss Merigold and fixing things is what she did best. 

She picked up her bag and danced out of the room towards Jaskier’s classroom. There was no music playing so she knocked on the door. She heard scuffling from inside the room before Jaskier beckoned her in. 

He rolled his eyes when he saw her but she ignored him. Whatever was wrong with him, he was being childish, more so than the kids he taught. 

“What can I do for you, Ms Merigold?” He asked wearily. 

His hair fell limply in front of his eyes. He was probably due a cut but he normally took a lot more care in his appearance at school. He was ghostly pale and he looked exhausted. His shirt hadn’t been ironed and he had ketchup stains on his trousers. 

He was a mess. 

“Jaskier.” She plopped down on top of the one of the desks in the front row. “What’s going on?”

He frowned. “Nothing at all.”

“You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Charming as ever Ms Merigold.”

“My name is Triss, Jaskier.” She chided. “And you’ve never had a problem in using it before. I can see something is wrong. Tell me.”

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped. 

“You are my friend.” She insisted. “And as my friend, it hurts me when you shut me out.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit!” She yelled. “You are clearly not sleeping. I don’t think you’ve had lunch in two weeks. You barely even talk to me anymore and I don’t think I’ve heard you play any music outside of class since Stregobor left!”

“I’m just so heartbroken by his disappearance.” He muttered sarcastically but flinched at his own words. 

“I know we haven’t been good friends for that long Jaskier but let me in. It helps to talk about it.” She insisted. 

“You’ve done more than enough for me, Triss.” Jaskier shook his head. “I would have had nowhere to stay if not for you. I am indebted.”

Triss laughed. “Nonsense! But if you really want to pay me back then you can buy me a drink next time we go to the pub after work? What about tonight, it’s been a while since we went out.” 

He bristled and glared fiercely at her. “No drinks.”

“Ok fine. What about coffee?” She tried to keep her growing frustration out of her voice but he was being infuriatingly stubborn.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Fine. You can buy my lunch for a week but remember I’m a vegetarian.” She smirked, hoping her gentle teasing would lift his gloom.

He scowled. “Fine. That would be acceptable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Jask.”

“Don’t call me that!” He spat and launched out of his seat and across the room in a heartbeat.

Triss took a deep breath to calm herself. Her friend was acting like a spooked horse. She couldn’t work out which words were going to send him flying.

“Jaskier?” She reached out to him. He looked at her with tears shining in his eyes. “Can I hug you?”

He nodded and flung himself into her waiting arms, sobbing against her shoulder. She stroked his hair whilst he exhausted himself with his tears. It couldn’t have been for very long, lunch time was almost over and the bell never rang but eventually his shoulders stilled and he was able to take steady breaths again. “What happened Jaskier?”

“I fell in love.” His voice cracked, muffled as he pressed his face into her shirt. 

“Geralt?” She had to ask, she couldn’t think of anyone else but she had to ask. 

She’d seen Jaskier get crushes before and he was never subtle. She remembered his fling with Stella . He’d sung her praises for months before she’d cheated on him and he’d come back in the spring term with fire in his heart and a whole new repertoire about heartbreak and betrayal. 

But he’d never been this broken. 

He tensed up in her arms. “Fuck.” He pushed away and tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I need to go and clean up.”

“Jaskier.” She pleaded. “Tell me what happened.”

“I already did.”

She scoffed. “Hardly.”

“I fell in love and we know that can’t fucking happen. I’m fine.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I will be fine.” He amended. “I fall out of love faster than I fall into it.” He finished with a flick of his wrist. 

He swooped from the room without looking back and she sighed. 

She didn’t know how to fix this. 

* * *

It took another week of Jaskier’s self pity before Triss managed to think of a plan. He was showing signs of getting better. He’d started eating lunch in the staffroom again, and she’d even seen him scribbling in his notebook. He was still avoiding any instruments and it seemed as if he would never get rid of the dark circles around his eyes but he was getting better. 

In the end it was Ciri that sparked her into action. She’d been on end of school pick up duty when she’d heard Ciri talking to her babysitter. 

“Coën?” The ashen-haired girl had asked as he helped her with her bag that had been falling from her shoulders. 

“Yes, cub?”

“I think Mr Jaskier is sad.” She replied glumly. “He doesn’t smile much anymore.”

Triss’s heart ached in her chest. 

“Maybe he’s just tired.” Coën suggested.

Ciri shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. I think he’s upset with us.” 

Coën pulled the girl into a hug. “What if I get your dad to email him and ask what’s wrong?”

Ciri stuck her tongue out as she considered the question and then nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want him to be sad anymore.”

After that they had walked out of the school gates and Triss hadn’t heard anymore of their conversation but Ciri’s words left a lasting impression. 

As soon as the last child was bundled into their parent’s car, Triss fled the car park and marched to Tissaia’s office. 

The older woman was buried under a mountain of paperwork. There were messy sketches dotted around her desk at odd intervals and her friend looked like she really needed the Beltane holidays to come round sooner rather than later. 

She glanced up when she’d notice Triss had entered her office. “Triss? Everything alright?”

Triss was momentarily distracted by the sheer amount of work on Tissaia’s desk. “Shit, you look like you’re drowning under all of that!”

Tissaia pursed her lips and sat up straighter in her chair. “A necessary evil. It’s shame Philippa didn’t send a third teacher to take over my position when I stepped up” The headmistress looked thoughtfully at her. “But that’s not why you came?”

Triss shook her head. “Hypothetically speaking….”

“Hypothetically?” Tissaia raised an eyebrow as she straightened the cuffs of her shirt. 

“Completely hypothetically. What would happen if a teacher started to date a parent?” Triss twisted a lock of hair nervously between her fingers. “Is there actually in their contracts that say they can’t?”

Tissaia smirked. “No. Nothing like that but it is seriously frowned upon, and there are other clauses that could get the teacher into trouble. Favouring one student over another for example.”

“Yes but, if two adults genuinely care about it each other. Isn’t it cruel to keep them apart?” Triss insisted. “What if one the teacher’s had a kid starting school? That would be favouritism but they can’t not go to school?”

Tissaia sighed. “Triss. Is there something you need to tell me? Perhaps about a certain year two teacher.”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Triss shouted before clapping a hand over her mouth. “They never dated as far as I’m aware.” She said more quietly. “But you know Jaskier.”

“I do.” Tissaia nodded.

“He wears his heart on his sleeve.” Triss pleaded with her friend to see reason. “Tissaia. Please. He’s miserable.”

“There’s nothing I can do, Triss.” Tissaia held her gaze steadily, her eyes as cold as ice. 

“Bullshit!” She accused. 

Tissaia’s gaze softened and she gave Triss a sad smile. “I wish I could. I’m no monster, Triss. I have noticed his sudden change in mood. I’d suspected Geralt might have been the cause. I was hoping that it meant whatever might have been going on between them was finished. I didn’t want to have to turn a blind-eye to their obvious flirtations.” 

“Would you have?” Triss asked. “If Jaskier wasn’t acting like a heartbroken fool and was still simpering over Geralt? Would you have turned a blind-eye?”

Tissaia looked away. “Love is a powerful force. It would be foolish to fight it.” 

“Does Jaskier know?” Triss asked sharply. 

Tissaia shook her head. “I can’t get involved.” 

“But if he found out?” She persisted.

“Well that’s out of my hands.” 

Triss grinned and pulled her friend into a side-hug. It was a little awkward with Tissaia still sitting down but Triss didn’t care. “Thank you!” 

* * *

Unfortunately for Triss her plan to save whatever had been brewing between the fireman and her friend was harder than she had anticipated. Jaskier was still flighty and hard to pin down. He was making more of an effort now to talk to her and plastered a fake smile on his face whilst he was a work but any mention of Geralt, no matter how small, sent him hurtling out of the room faster than the speed of light. She was trying to tell him that Tissaia wouldn’t be against his flirtations but the damned teacher just wouldn’t listen to her. He was acting like a wounded cat that had been backed into a corner. 

It was beyond infuriating. 

She needed help. She tapped her nails on her desk as she stared at her phone. She could get in trouble for using the number without a valid reason but she was running out of options and her friend was hurting. She scrolled through her contacts and hovered over Yennefer’s number. Yennefer would want to help Geralt, and if Triss mentioned that Ciri was sad about her teacher then that would help sway Yennefer to her way of thinking. 

Plus she was less likely to get into trouble by calling Yennefer.

More likely to get herself murdered in her sleep though. 

She grinned and rolled her eyes. She knew her best friend wouldn’t hurt her really, the other woman could just be a little prickly at times, especially when it came to Geralt and Ciri. 

She flicked back through her phone, took a deep breath and dialled the number from her screen. She waited with bated breath whilst the phone rang. She almost hung up a couple of times, her nerves nearly getting the better of her, before someone picked up on other end of the line.

“Kaer Morhen Fire Station.” 

It sounded like Vesemir which was a relief. She’d spoken to the kindly old man a few times when there had been problems at the school and when the older fireman had been trying to organise the event for the kids. 

“Vesemir?” She asked to be sure. 

“Speaking.” He grunted 

“Hi, It’s Triss Merigold.” She started to say. 

“From the school. Yes yes. Geralt’s on a job right now.” Vesemir stated. “Is Ciri alright?”

Triss smiled to herself. Young Ciri seemed to have the entire fire station wrapped around her little finger. From what Yennefer had told her, Geralt’s rota, the wolf pack, were like one giant family and Ciri was the latest addition to the family. She was aware the young girl had spent the holidays with the wolves but it still warmed her heart to hear the immediate concern in the older fireman’s voice. 

“She’s fine. I’m calling about Geralt.” Triss said hurriedly in case anyone entered the foyer and overheard her half of the conversation. 

Vesemir huffed on the other side of the line. “This isn’t a work call is it, Ms Merigold?”

Triss smiled serenely and put on her best angelic voice. “In a manner of speaking, of course it is.”

“Explain.” Vesemir said in a gruff voice. 

“I was just wondering if Mr Rivia had been acting any differently in the last.” She paused whilst she counted the dates back in her head. “three weeks or so.”

There was silence on the other end of the call. 

“Because there's been an unfortunate development on my end.” Triss continued. 

“Mr Pankratz?” Vesemir asked.

Triss hummed her agreement. “It’s been a sorry sight.”

Vesemir sighed. “I don’t know what you expect me to say, Ms Merigold. Geralt has been fine. If anything he’s been more focussed than I’ve seen him for months. I’d assumed he’d finally managed to balance his work and home life. It’s been a relief.”

Triss frowned. “But is he happy?” 

Vesemir laughed. “He’s doing his job well and the team are more efficient than ever. I’m sure if there were any problems that wouldn’t be the case Ms Merigold. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

Triss slunk forward on her desk. She hadn’t realise how much she’d been relying on Vesemir’s help from Geralt’s side but if the silver-haired fireman wasn’t affected at all by whatever was ailing Jaskier then perhaps she had overestimated Geralt’s feelings. She had been sure Geralt had liked Jaskier. He always seemed more than happy to see him, whenever they had cause to interact.

“Ok. Well thanks anyway. Sorry for bothering you.” She mumbled.

“I appreciate your concern, Ms Merigold.” Vesemir hung up. 

Triss swore under her breath. She began to think that maybe she was getting too involved in matters that didn’t involve her but she did care about Jaskier. She’d begun to almost see him like a younger brother and she was fond of him. She’d watched Geralt break one of her friend’s hearts already and she didn’t want to go through it all again. 

He may be one good-looking man but he was starting to get on her nerves.

Her desk phone began to rang and she rolled her eyes. She recognised the number. It belonged to one of the parents of the Foxgloves. The father in question had not taken the news about Mr Marx well and had taken an instant dislike to Filavandrel. The man had been ringing almost daily to try and get his daughter transferred to the Buttercups, and despite numerous attempts at explaining that Mr Pankratz’s class was full, he wouldn’t take no for any answer. 

Still, Triss had some pent up frustration. Maybe a good heated discussion with a parent would let it out. 

She grinned menacingly as she picked up the phone. 

“Dol Blathanna School. Ms Merigold speaking.” She trilled sweetly into the receiver and she drew some vines in the margin of her notebook.

* * *

That weekend Triss was browsing through the aisles of the local garden centre when she bumped into one of the other firemen, the sandy blond with the vicious scar down his face. 

She was looking through the rows of seeds for some new plants for her garden. She had a selection of herbs growing nicely in her kitchen for when she was cooking but she was looking to experiment with making her own loose tea mixes. She already used her mint plant to make tea, peppermint in particular was good for the digestive system and she wasn’t exactly well blessed in that department. She often felt sick after eating and the peppermint helped to settle her stomach. She thought about growing some chamomile flowers. They looked not too dissimilar to daisies and would be perfect for spring time, plus the flowers were known to help relax and she’d felt the stress build up since the beginning of the month. 

Maybe if she blended it with lavender she could make a nice nighttime tea.

That was her last thought before her basket went flying and she fell into a wall of muscle. 

“Oh shit!” The wall steadied her in his arms. “Are you ok?”

Triss looked up at the man. He was taller than she was by a good few inches but he seemed gentle and kind. She thanked him and gathered up her shopping, turning back to the rows of seeds.

The fireman was watching her. She could feel his burning emerald gaze on the back of her neck. She glanced back over her shoulder at him and raised her eyebrows.

“Did you need something?” She asked.

He blushed which made her smirk, the poor man probably hadn’t even realised, and then he scratched the back of his neck. “You’re from the school right?”

Triss tilted her head and picked up a packet of seeds from the hooks in front of her. Lemon Balm, could be a good addition to her nighttime blend. “What of it?” She asked cautiously. “I can’t tell you anything about the kids if that’s what you’re wondering. Not even Ciri.” 

He visibly paled. “Oh gods no. That’s not. No.”

She laughed and let her fingers brush over the packets of seeds. Perhaps some ginger? That would certainly help to soothe her stomach. It was a natural anti-nauseant. “Then what can I do for you, fireman?”

“Eskel. I’m a friend of Geralt’s. He’s like a brother really. Well, not my real brother, Lambert. Melitele knows he’s a pain in the ass.” Eskel wittered on aimlessly. 

Triss laughed. “Ah yes. The hot-headed fireman. Yennefer has mentioned him on occasion and he was at the school right?”

“Ah yes. Yeah. We both were.” Eskel grinned. 

Triss remembered. She remembered Jaskier drooling over the lot of them when they’d walked through the doors, and quite rightly so. They were certainly a good-looking bunch of men. “You were both on the hose, right?” 

Eskel nodded. “That’s right.”

“Well,” Triss said as she dropped one last packet of seeds into her basket. It was a wildflower mix designed to help attract bees to the garden. She was looking to leave a small patch of her garden to grow wildly and this would help. “It was nice to meet you, Eskel.”

“Wait.” Eskel moved in front of her and Triss froze, glaring up at the fireman. He seemed to realise his mistake and took a step back away from her. “Please.”

She put her free hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows at the man. “Go on, quickly.” 

“You asked Vesemir about Geralt, right?” Eskel said quickly. 

“I did, I thought he might have had an argument or something with a friend of mine.” Triss agreed quietly. “I was wrong.”

“You were right.” Eskel countered. “Vesemir hasn’t noticed because he’s stuck in the office. Geralt’s been a miserable grumpy bastard the last few weeks, more prickly than Lambert.” He laughed but Triss didn’t really understand the joke. “How’s the teacher?”

“Sadder than a puppy left outside the pet shop.” Triss rolled her eyes. “Heartbroken and sulking.”

“Do you know what happened?” Eskel asked and Triss shook her head. 

“He won’t talk about it, he practically runs from the room at the mention of Geralt.”

“White Wolf’s the same.” Eskel nodded sombrely 

“So Geralt did like Jaskier?” Triss asked with a tilt of her head. 

Eskel rolled his eyes. “He was absolutely smitten. It was driving us nuts but at least it was better than this grumpy pity party, he was at least happy before.”

“You’ll help me fix this then?” Triss asked. 

“I’ll do my best.” Eskel held out his hand and Triss shook it before pulling a pen from her purse and scribbling her number on the back of his hand. 

Maybe all was not lost after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late!! I ended up maybe drinking too much to proofread and got vaguely thirsty over Jaskier over on tumblr.... Oops. 
> 
> Let me know what you think and come find me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/)
> 
> \- Wolfie


	16. Chapter 16

It was mid-April when Geralt walked into the station, after dropping Ciri of at school, to find a huge banner hung in the breakout room. The word ‘INTERVENTION’ was scrawled in red paint across sheets of paper that had been stapled together. 

Geralt almost turned tail and ran from the station. 

He didn’t need a fucking intervention.

He was fine.

This was Vesemir’s fault for going on leave. Geralt was starting to wish he’d joined him. Vesemir had taken a trip to the coast, near Cintra, to go fishing. He’d asked Geralt if he wanted to go along but Geralt didn’t want to take Ciri out of school to go on a fishing trip that would most likely bore her to death. She was off school next week anyway, the start of the Beltane Holidays. 

“Fuck off!” He snapped at his team mates as he shoved past them to the locker room to get changed. 

“It’s for your own good, Geralt!” Eskel called after him.

Geralt muttered the words under his breath and scoffed. He was fine. Yes he’d been hurt when Jaskier had decided to practically ghost him out of the blue but really he should have expected it. Jaskier had said so many times that what they were doing was strictly on friendly terms. Not a single phone call or coffee date went by without Jaskier reminding Geralt of that fact.

He’d pushed too far.

He’d let his feelings get out of control and Jaskier had gone for a clean break. It was less messy that way. Geralt couldn’t begrudge him that. 

The thing that was confusing him was Jaskier’s apparent reaction to the whole thing. Coën had spoken to him after school a couple of weeks ago and mentioned that Ciri thought that something was up with Jaskier. He’d tried to ring the teacher but he hadn’t picked up. Not that Geralt had really expected anything different, by that point Jaskier had been avoiding him for about three weeks. 

He’d sent an email to check in with the teacher instead, noting that Ciri was worried about him. Jaskier should have appreciated Geralt’s efforts to make it about Ciri, but the reply he’d received was a curt assurance that the teacher was fine and that he was just tired, along with an apology to Ciri and a promise to hide it better in future.

Ciri had never mentioned it again so Geralt had assumed that Jaskier was alright.

Until that morning.

Jaskier was on morning playground duty this week. 

And he looked like shit.

There was small selfish part of Geralt that desperately hoped that it was the break in their friendship that had caused such a change in the man.

He shook his head. Perhaps Eskel was right. He did need an intervention. He sighed as he finished changing into his uniform and strode back into the break room as he was pulling his hair back into a bun. “Fine. Go on.”

Renfri cackled and pulled the screen down on the wall that Vesemir used for training days. Lambert clicked the button on the projector and Geralt groaned as the picture slowly faded into view.

It was a picture of Jaskier, a headshot taken from the school’s website. Geralt knew that because he’d checked website earlier that morning to make sure he’d gotten the dates for the school holidays right.

It wasn’t his fault that he’d accidentally clicked on the staff page. 

His fingers slipped.

The slide show was titled ‘how to get over your daughter’s teacher.” 

“Very funny.” Geralt muttered under his breath. 

Renfri wrapped her arms around his neck and then grinned as she twisted to ruffle his hair. “We only want what’s best for you Ger-Bear.” 

“Get off.” He grumbled and tried to escape her grip. Once he’d finally ducked out of her arms he turned round to the team with what he hoped was a convincing smile. “I appreciate the concern but honestly I’m fine.”

“You look like someone shot Roach in front of you.” Eskel raised an eyebrow at him.

“And then forced you to eat her.” Lambert added.

Geralt grimaced. “Why am I friends with you?” 

“I’m delightful.” Lambert smirked.

Geralt frowned, remembering a similar conversation he’d had before.

“What?!” Lambert groaned. “Seriously! What did I say?”

Eskel shrugged and Renfri watched Geralt suspiciously. “Geralt?”

He grunted.

“Please tell me that you’re not sulking because Lambert said something that Jaskier would say.” She put a hand on his shoulder but he didn’t meet her gaze. 

He shrugged her off. “I’m fine.” He insisted and stalked into Vesemir’s office. 

With the chief gone, Geralt had been asked to step up for the week and make sure all the piles of paperwork didn’t build up. It also meant that he got to hide out in the office away from the others which suited him just fine.

The projector had been turned off by the time he’d left his office for his morning tea break but in its place was a bundle of paper, printouts of the slides. He sighed and scooped them up before putting the kettle on. His friends were only trying to look out for him and he could admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that he’d been sulking. More than anything he was just pissed off at himself for letting his walls down, and he was angry that it was suddenly so much harder to rebuild them again. Why couldn’t they just snap back into place? He could go about his day with his job and his friends and his family.

Jaskier’s face was smiling up at him from the sheet of paper. 

“Fuck!” He cursed and typed out a text to Coën, asking the teenager if he wouldn’t mind staying a little longer with Ciri this evening. 

A few minutes later his phone beeped and he let out a breath of relief when he read that Coën had agreed to stay for an extra hour. He quickly replied to thank Coën. Honestly, the kid was a lifesaver. Geralt wouldn’t have been able to stay at work without him. He’d considered finding a way to work from home when Ciri had first arrived, he was pretty handy at DIY and there was a time where he’d thought about making a business out of restoring and fixing up damaged furniture, even odd jobs round people’s houses whilst Ciri was at school, working to his own schedule.

But the fire station was his home, they were his family. 

He’d been too selfish to give that up and in the end it had worked out for the best. Ciri now had a family beyond Geralt which was important for the young girl who had lost everything. 

He sighed as he finished his tea, it was still too hot and burnt the back of his throat but he didn’t mind. It was better than cold tea and he had work to do. The breaks always went too fast and the day always went too slow.

He avoided his colleagues for the rest of the day whenever possible, luckily for them it was a slow day and most of the call outs were false alarms. Eskel and Renfri had a tough call at a fatal car accident and they were pretty shaken for the rest of the day after that but the team banded together and they moved on. 

They had to.

It was the job.

When the handful of full-time cats turned up for the nightshift, Geralt felt a prickle on anxiety tickle up his spine. He was exhausted and this had all seemed like a good idea at the beginning of the day when he still had hours to go.

But now.

Now he just wanted to fuck it all and go home to Ciri. 

He ran through the handover quickly before escaping to his truck. He sat in his truck for at least five minutes, his head resting on the steering wheel before he swore under his breath.

“Fuck, Geralt. Get a grip!” He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out from the station. 

He considered dropping into a petrol station on the way but decided that would be too cheesy. 

Jaskier would probably like cheesy though.

But they weren’t dating and couldn’t be dating so cheesy was out of the question. 

“I’m just making sure he’s alright. Friends do that.” Geralt grumbled at he drew up in front of the block of flats, thankfully not on fire this time. 

He peered at the keypad at the front of the door looking for the right number.

5D.

That was seared into his mind forever more. 

He took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer, ignoring the rising wave of panic in his chest. The building was not on fire and Jaskier was not in danger. He didn’t need to kick through the door. He wasn’t in uniform and there was no smoke billowing from the windows. 

“Hello?” Jaskier’s voice crackled from the intercom.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked. “Can I come up?”

There was brief pause and Geralt stared at the keypad, willing for Jaskier’s voice to come out, as if staring at it would make it happen sooner. 

“Fuck. Fine. Yes.” Jaskier sounded tired but the door buzzed and Geralt opened it before Jaskier could change his mind. 

The lift would be too slow, he decided, so he ran up the stairs taking them two at a time. He slowed to a brisk walk as he walked through the corridor. It would be a bit much, even for him, to run down the corridor. 

Jaskier was waiting for him, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

He looked… lifeless. 

Geralt had never seen the teacher so flat before. He was normally brimming with life, dancing around with sparkling eyes, never really staying still. 

“Jask.” Geralt breathed as their eyes met. 

Jaskier frowned and looked away. “This is not appropriate, Geralt.” 

“I know.” He sighed. “I know.”

“Why are you here, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, still looking at his feet. 

Geralt desperately wished that the man would look at him. “Honestly?”

Jaskier huffed, sounding somewhat amused by the question. “Normally helps.”

Geralt swallowed. This was a terrible idea. He was not good at this, not good at finding the words that were enough. All the feelings swirling inside him like a storm. How could words ever be enough? Jaskier normally understood this and he’d gotten pretty good at translating Geralt’s hums and grunts in the past but now that wouldn’t be enough. 

He needed words. 

Jaskier needed words. 

“Take your time.” Jaskier said quietly with a tilt of his and finally looked Geralt in the eyes. 

Geralt felt the tension leave his body as he let himself get lost of the cornflower blue of Jaskier’s eyes. A weight he didn’t know he was carrying was lifted from his body. 

He took a deep breath. “I.” He cut himself off with a growl. Why was this so hard? “I don’t understand.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “You don’t understand what, Geralt?”

“We were friends.” Geralt tried to explain. “And then we weren’t.”

Jaskier sighed and moved from the doorway, gesturing for Geralt to follow him. 

Geralt looked around the flat. It was good to replace the memories he had of the place. He took in all the details he could, Jaskier’s instrument collection propped up against the walls covered with a thin layer of dust, a thick soft looking rug underfoot and picture frames scattered all over the walls with no particular care of placement. The kitchen was small and led straight into the lounge area. Jaskier’s furniture was a mess of different styles but somehow he managed to make it work and Geralt couldn’t imagine it any differently.

“Drink?” Jaskier asked as he shuffled awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

Geralt consider it but shook his head. “Fine thanks.”

“I’m going to have a glass a wine. Do you mind?” The teacher asked as he moved towards the kitchen. Geralt shook his head. “Good. Please, sit down.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt sighed in exasperation as the man flitted about the flat, but he did as he was told and perched on the edge of the sofa. He waited for Jaskier to come back into the living area, a large glass of red wine in hand. “Jaskier, what’s been going on?”

Jaskier was tapping his fingers against the glass nervously, glancing around the room and looking anywhere but at Geralt. 

“It’s not your fault, Geralt.” He finally answered. 

Geralt laughed. “I never said it was, now stop making this seem like a bad rom-com and answer the question, Jask.” 

Jaskier giggled at that and the sound brightened the room considerably. “I suppose it was a bit like a bad rom-com, wasn’t it? It’s not you, Geralt, it’s me!” He laughed.

Geralt laughed with him and their eyes met once more. “Is this the part where I declare my undying love for you and beg you to take me back?” He teased. 

Jaskier froze.

Fuck.

Too far.

Why did he always take the joke too far?

“Don’t joke about that, Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice wavered and there was something indescribable shining in his blue eyes.

Geralt furrowed his brow as he took in the teacher’s reaction.

The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

Jaskier wanted that.

He wanted Geralt.

His body moved without his permission. He stood up and crossed the room in a heartbeat, his hands cupping Jaskier’s cheeks as he pulled the brunet into a kiss. It felt like all the air left him as their lips met. He hadn’t how much he had needed this, needed Jaskier. It wasn’t until Jaskier’s lips were on his that he realised the true depth of his feelings. 

It was like the heat of fire after being caught in the middle of a blizzard. Hot, blistering and burning into his soul. 

Jaskier whimpered against his lips and they both jumped apart at the sound of breaking glass. Red wine was running over the floor and soaking into the rug. 

Jaskier glanced down at the mess of broken glass and back up at Geralt with wide eyes. They stared at each other, their breaths the only sound in the flat, before Jaskier lunged forward and captured Geralt’s lips in a bruising kiss. Geralt pulled Jaskier closer to him, after the distance between them the last few weeks he needed to feel the brunet pressed up close to his chest. Geralt’s hands drifting down to Jaskier’s ass. He smiled against Jaskier’s lips as the man squeaked when Geralt gripped his ass. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier whined. 

“Hmm?” He buried his nose in Jaskier’s neck and inhaled the soft chamomile scent.

Jaskier tugged at his hair and pulled him in for another kiss. Jaskier’s lips were cracked from where he’d been chewing on his bottom lip but Geralt couldn’t care less as he bumped his nose against Jaskier’s. It was messy, it was needy…

It was somehow still perfect.

They were lost up in the moment, caught up in each other as the world around the faded away. 

All Geralt knew was Jaskier as their lips moved together, tongues dancing as the kiss deepened. It felt like Jaskier was reaching into his very soul. They broke apart, panting and gripping tightly onto each other’s shirts. Jaskier was first to catch his breath and he laughed as he pressed his forehead against Geralt’s. 

“Well, that was…” 

“Hmm.” Geralt agreed.

“Not that I’m complaining or anything but…” Jaskier pulled back slightly and rested his hand on Geralt’s cheek. 

Geralt couldn’t help but lean into his touch. It had been so long since he’d felt like this for anyone, since he’d allowed himself to be vulnerable. “I love you, Jask.”

Jaskier smiled sadly and pressed his lips to Geralt’s in a chaste kiss. “I love you too but…”

Geralt groaned and pulled away from the teacher. “Don’t say it.”

“We can’t.” Jaskier pouted. “Geralt you know we can’t. That’s why…” 

“Why what?” Geralt snapped. 

“It’s why I had to, you know. I couldn’t bear to be around you and not have you.” Jaskier stepped forward with a heartbreaking expression on his face.

Like Jaskier was begging Geralt to understand.

He didn’t.

“You could have had me, Jask. Fuck!” He yelled and spun around in frustration, his finger pinching the bridge of his nose. He counted a few beats in his head and sighed, turning back round to face Jaskier. “I’m not. I’m not good at this but I thought I was being pretty obvious.” 

Jaskier’s face fell. “Oh dear heart.”

“Don’t.” Geralt growled. “Don’t kiss me like that and then tell me we can’t do this.”

“I’ve hurt you.” Jaskier sighed and sat down on the sofa. “I’m sorry, darling.”

Geralt down next to him, he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to Jaskier, even if he was angry at the teacher. Jaskier seemed to have the same problem. He rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder and his hands landed on Geralt’s legs. 

“I didn’t come here to kiss you.” Geralt admitted. 

Jaskier laughed. “Oh?”

“I just needed to know why you were avoiding me.” Geralt sighed as he laced their fingers together. “I couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong. I thought maybe I could apologise?”

Jaskier shifted next to him so that he was kneeling on the sofa facing Geralt, a hand on his cheek. “Dearest, you did nothing wrong.”

“Hmm.” Geralt replied, not believing Jaskier. Of course he’d done something wrong. There was no other reason for Jaskier to pull away from him so suddenly.

“I was scared, Geralt.” Jaskier admitted. “We have the board breathing down our necks at work, three teachers suspended for misconduct.” 

Geralt opened his mouth to speak but Jaskier’s finger on his lips stunned him to silence. 

“Let me finish, dear.” Jaskier pleaded. 

“Fine” Geralt mumbled against Jaskier’s finger. 

“Good.” Jaskier bopped him on the nose and Geralt wrinkled it in surprise. “Three teachers suspended for misconduct,” He repeated, picking up his train of thought. “and then you came in with the lunchbox and well…” Jaskier trailed off and smiled dopily at Geralt. Geralt laughed and bumped his forehead against Jaskier’s gently. “Well, I realised that I was unreasonably in love with you.”

Geralt hummed and pulled him into a kiss. How was he supposed to resist the teacher when he said things like that?

He felt Jaskier’s smile against his lips as the brunet pushed back against his chest. “I wasn’t finished!” 

Geralt smirked and tilted his head at the teacher.

“No. Stop it. Stop looking at me like that.” Jaskier pouted. 

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Geralt chuckled. 

“Yes you are!” Jaskier poked him in the chest. “It’s all very…” He waved his hands in Geralt’s general direction. “distracting!” 

“So you realised you were in love with me?” Geralt grinned, prompting the teacher to continue his story.

“Yes and,” He paused “then I remembered that we were supposed to just be friends and with teachers getting suspended left right and centre I just. I couldn’t risk it! I couldn’t do that to my kids, Geralt. I couldn’t do that to Ciri. She’s lost too much already.” Jaskier was staring at him with wide eyes and jutting out his bottom lip. 

Geralt frowned at the words. “You did it for Ciri?” 

How could he argue with that?

Jaskier was right. If he was suspended or fired because Geralt couldn’t control himself. Ciri would lose her teacher and she adored Jaskier. All of the buttercups did. 

“I did it for all of my buttercups.” Jaskier amended. “Ciri included.”

“Fuck.” Geralt groaned and pressed his palm against his forehead. 

“But I hated it, Geralt.” Jaskier shifted forward and took Geralt’s hands in his. “I missed you, Melitele knows I missed you. I missed the sound of your voice, I missed your laugh, I missed the way your lips quirk up in that little half smile.”

Geralt scowled. “I don’t do that.”

“You do.” Jaskier insisted. “and I missed your eyes. Gods, Geralt. Do you even know how beautiful they are?”

Geralt scoffed.

“Geralt!” Jaskier whined. “Beautiful.”

“Hmm.” Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“I never wanted to hurt you.” Jaskier sighed. “Forgive me, darling.”

Geralt searched Jaskier’s eyes with his own, trying to find an answer to a question that he didn’t understand. He only knew that the answer was in Jaskier’s eyes. He tilted his head as he tried to comprehend what was really going on between them. They were fighting, but then they were kissing, and then fighting again. They couldn’t be more than friends but they loved each other but Jaskier could lose his job but the never-ending terms of endearment. 

Was love always this fucking confusing?

He thought back to his relationship with Yennefer and decided it probably was.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked quietly. “Please.”

He sighed, knowing he wasn’t able to answer the question yet. He didn’t have enough information to make the decision yet. “What happens next?” 

“What?” Jaskier asked, his voice cracking. 

“We can’t date, Jask. You were right. It wouldn’t be fair on the kids, on Ciri, if someone found out.” Geralt scowled. 

Why did it feel like they were breaking up again before they even got started?

“I know.” The teacher sighed and buried his head in Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt instinctively moved his hand to thread his fingers through Jaskier’s soft hair. “It’s not fair.” 

“No.” Geralt agreed. “It’s not. So what happens now?”

“I can’t pretend that I don’t love you, Geralt.” Jaskier moaned into his shirt. 

Geralt laughed and gently pulled Jaskier up so he could see his face again. The brunet was pouting. 

Gods, those lips would be the end of him. 

He didn’t know what else to say so he did the only thing he could think of and kissed them.

Jaskier fell back onto the sofa and pulled Geralt on top of him. Geralt straddled Jaskier waist and he kissed him like his life depended on it. They wouldn’t have tomorrow, they only had today. 

This moment.

This was it. 

He couldn’t waste it. 

He wouldn’t waste it. Not now that he had Jaskier in his arms, his lips captured by his own. 

“Jaskier?” He asked, his voice a low growl. “Stop me.”

Jaskier laughed breathlessly, his face was flushed and his pupils were blown wide so there was only a slither of cornflower blue. “Like fuck I will. Shut up you brute and kiss me!”

So he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada!! I hope the wait was worth it....
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) and maybe toss a comment to your writer? 
> 
> \- Wolfie


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Car accident with implied death (off page and not a named character), Alcohol, and both Renfri and Eskel aren't in the best state mental health wise. 
> 
> Also warning for some quite frankly terrible poetry.

The day after Geralt’s failed intervention the mood was strangely lighter in the fire station. The White Wolf still had a frown almost permanently plastered on his face but that was just Geralt. At least today he joined in with team’s banter and very occasionally, he actually deigned to smile at them.

Eskel had noticed that the printouts had disappeared from the break room so perhaps Geralt had perused them at his own leisure. The intervention was supposed to have been a joke. It had been designed to make Geralt laugh and maybe pull his head out of his ass but the joke had backfired and Geralt had flown into a fury and stormed from the room. He’d been pricklier than Lambert for the rest of the day and they’d barely seen him. He’d only come out of the office for jobs and to check on Eskel and Renfri after the horrific accident they’d had to attend. 

Eskel shuddered at the memory. 

It had been one of the worst he’d seen. Phones. If he ever had kids then he was going to make sure that they never had phones, at least until he was sure that they could be responsible. 

He sighed. 

It was such a waste of life. 

A hand clapped on his back and he was startled from his thoughts. Geralt was watching him with a concerned expression. “You alright, wolf?”

Eskel patted Geralt’s hand on his shoulder and then turned to pull the silver-haired firefighter into a hug. Geralt seemed startled by the affection but wrapped his arms around Eskel’s back. It wasn’t a long hug but it did the trick. Eskel felt lighter for it and smiled gratefully at his friend. 

“I’m alright.”

“The car accident?” Geralt asked with a tilt of his head.

Eskel nodded. “He was just so young.”

Geralt huffed in agreement. “Are you sure you’re ok to be here?”

Eskel laughed, it sounded strained even to his own ears. “Course. It’s just the job.”

Geralt frowned. “Take the afternoon off if you need it and take Renfri with you.” 

Renfri had been cleaning the fire engine out meticulously all morning. She’d only taken a break to spar with Lambert out in the yard before she been called out to rescue some cat from a tree. Geralt had purposely sent her out on the less taxing jobs today.

“Thanks.” Eskel thumped Geralt on the back affectionately. “You seem better today?”

Geralt hummed nonchalantly. 

“The intervention do some good after all?” Eskel asked cautiously. 

Geralt’s eyes flashed angrily but he didn’t run off which was an improvement. “I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business.”

“We’re just worried about you.” Eskel admitted. “You haven’t been yourself recently. It was a stupid joke, thought it might make you laugh.”

Geralt hummed and rolled his eyes. “Who’s idea was it?”

Eskel felt his cheeks warm up slightly.

Well. 

Wasn’t that a question?

The idea had come from Triss. They’d gone out for drinks after they had both finished work to try and brainstorm about how to help their friends. After a couple of glasses of wine Triss had groaned and leant into his side with a sigh and flippantly suggested that they should stage an intervention. 

It had been a joke on her part but Eskel had thought it worth a shot. 

The rest of the wolves had quickly come on board with the idea and the whole thing had really snowballed. 

It had been a disaster but Triss had laughed when he’d told about it last night. She’d tried talking to Jaskier again the morning of the intervention but to no avail. 

Eskel couldn’t work out why they were being so difficult? It was like they enjoyed being miserable. 

Except.

Today was different?

Their printouts hadn’t been that great but maybe it been just enough.

“Lambert’s” Eskel lied with ease. 

“Hmm. Thought as much.” Geralt rolled his eyes. “Had Lambert written all over it”

Eskel laughed. “Seemed to help though?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him.

Eskel shrugged. “You’re less sad puppy and more… White Wolf?”

Geralt’s lips pulled up into a small smile. “Yeah.”

The conversation was cut off by the sound of the alarms blaring in the station. Geralt glanced up. 

“Time to work.” He said firmly and they both broke into a run. 

It was go time. 

* * *

Eskel stank of smoke by the time he collapsed onto his sofa. His uniform would need to be washed that evening so he’d brought it home. He didn’t quite trust Lambert to make sure that his uniform went in with the others. It was currently stuffed into Eskel’s washing machine but he hadn’t had the energy to put the machine on. He desperately needed a shower too but it just wasn’t going to happen just yet. Lil’ Bleater was dancing around the living room, his hooves clattering on the hard floor as he chased around one of those wind up toys. Eskel rolled onto his side and watched the goat fondly. 

Lil’ Bleater couldn’t seem to work out whether he liked the toy or was terrified of his. Every time he got to close to the thing he would bounce back with a sharp patter of hooves and headbutt the air. 

As long as he didn’t try to eat the damned thing all would be fine.

He bleated loudly as the toy wound down to a stop. Eskel sighed and rolled off the sofa to wind up the toy. He scratched the goat between his horns and then laid down on the floor next to him. The goat all but forgot about the toy and decided to walk all over Eskel’s chest instead. 

He winced as the little hooves dug into his chest but he knew the goat would settle eventually, he was affectionate little shit. Sometime Eskel wondered whether he was part cat. 

His was absentmindedly stroking Lil’ Bleater’s fur when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled for his phone and peered at the notification. It was Triss. He quickly unlocked his phone to see the whole message. 

_T - Hows yours been today? x_

Eskel smiled fondly at his phone and tapped out a reply. 

_E — Better. Yours?_

He watched the dots float at bottom of the screen, patiently waiting for a response. Lil’ Bleater had other ideas and headbutted the phone from his hands. 

“You bastard.” Eskel groaned. “I did not come home early just to be your personal cuddler.”

The goat bleated. 

“Yes I know you’re very cute but I’m busy, buddy.” Eskel gave the goat another scratch before picking him up and shoving him back onto the floor. He scooped up his phone and flopped back onto the sofa.

_T — Like a ray of sunshine. I thought you said the intervention didn’t work. x_

Eskel frowned. 

That was odd. He typed out half a reply and then deleted it. 

_E — You still at work?_

He waited for Triss’s reply, staring intently at the phone. 

_T — Sadly._

Her message was followed by a series of crying emojis. She was still typing so Eskel held fire. 

_— You’re home? That’s early isn’t it? x_

_E — Rough day yesterday. Geralt sent me and Renfi home early to recover._

He sighed. He’d not mentioned the accident to Triss yesterday on the phone. She’d been wound up by work, it hadn’t been easy with the substitute teachers and parents ringing up constantly to complain about the whole situation. Triss had taken the brunt of that, fielding calls for their headmistress. She didn’t need his stress on top of all of that. 

His phone surprised him by ringing in his hands. He grinned and swiped to answer. 

“I thought you were at work?” He teased her gently.

Triss laughed on the other end of the line. “I’m taking a mandatory screen break. What happened?” 

Eskel sighed and recounted his previous day, leaving out the worst parts and any names of the people involved but he wasn’t too worried. The crash had made the news so it wasn’t exactly like it wasn’t public knowledge. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Triss asked quietly. 

Eskel huffed a tired laugh. “You had enough on your plate.”

“Nonsense.” Triss disputed. “You could have told me. It was good of Geralt to let you go today.”

“Yeah. He insisted. I don’t think either of us were in a good frame of mind today, could have been dangerous if we’d gone to a complex job.” Eskel admitted. “He did the right thing. Shrike kicked up a fuss though. Lambert grumbled about it too but Geralt called in a couple of cats to cover us.” 

Triss laughed brightly. “It’s weird that your rotas are all named after animals.” 

“Says the school with flowers for class names.” He shot back, joining in with her laughter. 

“Touché.” 

They fired quips back and forth for a few more minutes before Triss sighed and announced that she really should get back to work. 

“Alright.” He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, puzzled by the disappointment in his own voice and his reluctance to end the call.

“But I was thinking of ordering takeaway tonight. Honestly I don’t have the energy to cook and I always order too much food. I could use the company.” Triss suggested.

Eskel grinned. “Sounds like a plan, Ms Merigold.” 

“I’ll see you later then.” She answered brightly, Eskel could hear the smile in her voice and it warmed his heart. 

“See you.” He agreed as she hung up. 

* * *

For the rest of the week Eskel had a spring in his step. Dinner with Triss had been a complete laugh and they were now texting on nearly a daily basis, and not even about their idiot friends anymore. He should really thank Geralt for all his moping. 

He’d made a new friend out of it. 

Perhaps even more than a friend but it was too early to tell. He liked spending time with Triss though. It was good to have a friend that he didn’t work with. He hadn’t realised how much time he spent talking to his goat before he’d met Triss. 

She was kind and fun. There was a brilliant mischievous streak to her which he adored. She was clearly the source of all the good gossip in the school and loved regaling Eskel with the juiciest tales about the teachers. They cackled together at the misfortunes of others and were a shoulder to cry on for the tougher parts of the day. 

He laughed. Who knew a chance meeting in a garden centre would have such a positive effect on his life?

The other wolves luckily hadn’t seemed to have noticed his change of heart just yet. Geralt and Jaskier’s saga was keeping their enquiring minds busy and he managed to slip under the radar with his new almost date. 

Geralt’s mood had also remained brighter too. Eskel still couldn’t work out why. The man still refused to talk about Jaskier, and rarely brought up Ciri’s school life at all these days, a stark contrast to the beginning of the year. 

It was almost as if Geralt had forgotten that the school and Jaskier existed.

Maybe he was getting over him after all. 

It was a shame, the teacher was fun to hang out with. On their one trip to the pub they’d been on together he’d had an entertaining habit of serenading the nearest person or waxing poetry about who ever was in front of him. Eskel hoped they could still stay friends with the teacher without upsetting Geralt. He knew Lambert was particularly fond of him, especially now he’d gotten over his starstruck fangirling. They hadn’t seen Jaskier very often, mostly when they bumped into him in the local coffee shops, and not since whatever had happened with Geralt. Still he had been a breath of fresh air to the wolf pack. Their work was hard and emotionally draining at times and he’d brightened up their lives with his music, poetry and optimistic outlook. 

He sighed as he pulled on his jacket. He was going out to the pub with Triss and a few of her colleagues. It had been the last day of term today and they all wanted to celebrate. Lambert and Renfri were joining him there. Triss had suggested that he bring the wolves along, more the merrier she said. Geralt was being a party pooper and staying at home to watch Ciri but Eskel supposed none of them could really judge him for that. 

It was just strange, even after over nine months. Geralt had always been part of the team, he could hold his drink astoundingly well but get him on the vodka and he could be persuaded to do some karaoke. He also tended to get very philosophical whilst drunk which provided endless amusement for the wolf pack.

It just wasn’t the same without him. 

It was only a short bus journey to the chosen location, and one he could easily walk back from later in the evening. He took a deep breath. 

New people.

Most days he almost forgot about the scar that marked one side of his face and with his friends and family he no longer felt self-conscious. He knew they saw him, the man behind the scar. He didn’t give a fuck about strangers in the street, he was used to the stares at this point in his life. As a teenager he had tried to cover it up with make-up but the heavy stuff he’d needed to properly cover the deeply etched scar tissue was expensive and he’d slowly given it up, but these were Triss’s friends and people she cared about. He wanted them to like him. He knew if he even wanted a chance with her then he’d have to make a good impression. 

Luckily he’d have the wolves and Jaskier on his side too. 

He laughed. The teacher hadn’t once looked at the mark the way most people did, nor did he awkwardly maintain eye contact as a way to stop himself from staring. If Eskel was lucky then most of Triss’s friends would grant him the same courtesy. 

One could only hope. 

He pushed open the door and scanned the room. He caught sight of Triss’s mop of curly copper brown hair and grinned. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps and smiled brightly at him. She had a glass of rosé in hand and her cheeks were flushed under her tanned skin from the heat of the pub. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. She was wearing a bright turquoise top and a black leather jacket. 

“Eskel!!” A happy cry surprised him and he suddenly had his arms full of Jaskier. 

Eskel grunted as he buckled slightly under the unexpected weight. The teacher was heavier than he looked, and Eskel had never noticed how muscular he was before. 

How the fuck did he hide all this under those floral shirts?

“Jaskier!” Triss chided. “Leave him alone.”

“But he’s so strong!” Jaskier whined.

He reeked of alcohol already. Eskel tried to lower the teacher to the floor but Jaskier’s arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I’m so sorry.” Triss smiled apologetically and shifted along the cushioned bench to make space for him. “Some one got a little over excited about the holidays.”

“Every day is closer to summer Triss Merigold!” Jaskier pointed a finger accusingly at his friend, still half hanging from Eskel’s shoulder. “And I thank all the Gods for that!” 

“What’s so good about the summer holidays?” Eskel asked with a laugh. 

Jaskier gasped dramatically and put his hands on his hips.

“Oh my dear firefighter.” Jaskier almost looked at him in pity and jumped up on the table and began to perform with his hand on his heart.

“Summer is the season of friendship,   
long days, and sand between your toes.  
Summer is the season of happiness,   
of smiles sweeter than a lover’s rose.  
  
Summer is the season of music,   
laughter and happiness swirling all around.   
Summer is the season of joy,  
for out of darkness, light will be found.  
  
Summer is the season of hope,   
flowers blooming, yellow, red and blue.  
Summer is the season of love,  
For my dear heart, love is you.”

Eskel blinked up at the man. His cheeks were pink and his hair was a mess but he had the biggest grin on his face and looked ridiculously proud of himself. 

A wolf whistle from the door accompanied by laughter and applause came from the door of the pub. Eskel groaned. His dear brother always arrived at the worst points.

Jaskier preened at the attention and bowed dramatically before Triss yanked him off the table. He stumbled and landed half in her lap.

“Eskel! Look at you. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Lambert grinned and pulled him into a hug. 

“Way to go, Buttercup!” Renfri cheered. 

Jaskier gasped. “Oh no. No, no, no. Not my boyfriend. No offence, my darling wolf.” Jaskier leaned pulled Eskel’s face down and kissed him on the nose. “You are beautiful and you would be a wonderful boyfriend.” Eskel rolled his eyes and pushed the teacher away. 

Jaskier pouted but settled in Triss’s lap, twirling the curls of her hair in his fingers. He began to babble away about how pretty it was and how the freckles on her skin were like kisses from an angel. He wasn’t wrong but Eskel had to push down the jealousy that was threatening to tear the teacher from Triss’s lap and dump in on the floor. Instead he made do for sitting next to her, with Jaskier’s feet sprawling into his lap. 

“Lilit’s sake. How much has he had?” Lambert asked.

Triss sighed wearily and rolled her eyes. “Not as much as you much might think. Just couple of doubles. I think he’s just excited.”

Lambert turned to face Triss with a puzzled frown on his face then gestured between himself and Renfri. “Lambert. Renfri. Not together before you asked. Not that you would but…” 

“Lambert. Shut it.” Eskel growled.

Triss just laughed and smiled up at the newcomers. “Triss Merigold, you know Jaskier I take it.”

“They’re friends of Geralt’s!” Jaskier chimed. “And all so handsome.” Renfri coughed and glared at him. “Oh you are the most handsome! Or do you prefer beautiful? Radiant?”

Renfri smirked. “Better.”

“All so radiant!” Jaskier amended with a dopy grin. “I think it’s a requirement of the job.” He whispered loudly at Triss. 

Eskel rolled his eyes at the teacher fondly. “Thought there would be more of you?” 

Triss nodded. “Tissaia and Is have gone to meet Yennefer at the airport.”

Eskel frowned. Geralt hadn’t mentioned anything about Yennefer dropping by. They normally all tried to meet up for dinner when she was in town. “Yen’s back?”

Triss nodded and sipped her wine. “She’s surprising Geralt and Ciri. I think she’s taking Ciri on a road trip to start the holidays. Give Geralt a break from having to worry about childcare, and let Coën spend more time with his friends.”

Eskel grinned. “That’ll be good, and he’s on leave the week after next, for Ciri’s birthday. I think they were going to go on a hack with Roach, and Geralt’s planning his first birthday party.”

“Roach?” Triss asked.

“His horse!” Jaskier grinned. “She’s beautiful.”

“Jaskier, you think everyone is beautiful.” Triss sighed and pulled the brunet’s fingers from her hair. 

“Well, excuse me?” He snorted. “I am an artist! It is my job to see the beauty in the world.”

“You’re a teacher, it’s your job to wipe snot from kid’s noses.” Renfi smirked.

Jaskier gasped. “You take that back! I am a musician, a poet, a troubadour of the highest merit. Lambert tell her!”

Lambert chuckled. “I don’t know about a troubadour but his band is pretty good.”

Jaskier stuck his tongue out at Renfri who made a face right back at him. Eskel rolled his eyes as he looked between his friends. “Drinks?” He asked, peering at the queue for the bar. It wasn’t too bad but it was always easier for one of them to queue up rather than a whole group of them. 

Triss perked up and finished up the last of her glass of wine. “I’ll come with you. Anyone want to share a bottle of bubbly?” 

Jaskier stuck his hand up immediately. Lambert shrugged. “Why not, Merigold, go on then.”

“I’ll have a pint of whatever ale is cheapest.” Renfri added. 

Eskel helped Triss to extract herself from Jaskier’s clinging hands. In the end it had been easier to transfer the teacher onto Lambert’s lap. The alcohol in his system had made Jaskier even more physically affectionate than he usually was. Eskel wondered how much he had to restrain himself at work. The kids probably would have been confused if their teacher went around hugging all the teachers and parents that he met. 

It was an amusing thought, nonetheless. 

Triss placed her hand on his arm as they navigating through the crowd towards the bar. “I’m glad you came.” 

Eskel smiled fondly down at her, wondering at how the light of the nearby fireplace caught in the curls of her hair. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“What if I hadn’t have asked you to invite the others?” Triss asked coyly. 

Eskel laughed. “Even better. You’ve seen my brother. He’s an asshole.”

Triss joined in with his laughter. She had a beautiful laugh, it was heartwarming and gentle. “You’re not the one who brought along Jaskier. He’s a great friend but…”

“But he can be a bit much?” Eskel surmised.

“Exactly!” Triss agreed. 

“Well.” Eskel tried to give Triss his most charming smile. “Maybe next time it could be just us?”

Triss cupped his cheek gently with her hand and her smile was brighter than the sun. “You read my mind, wolf.” She kissed his cheek before turning back to order the drinks with a radiant smile on her face. 

All Eskel could do was smile dopily at her. 

By the time Yennefer, Istredd and Tissaia arrived, the rest of the gang were all a few drinks down and full of mirth. Lambert was telling some stupid story from when they were at the kid’s home together. The pranks they’d played had been legendary. Eskel helped the story along by adding bits and pieces that his brother had left out. He was a little distracted by Triss holding his hand under the table but he didn’t let it show. Everyone else seemed either too drunk to notice or quite frankly didn’t care. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he thought of Tissaia and Istredd. The former was difficult to read. She seemed very put together and there was something about her that reminded him of the care workers at the home, but Triss was fond of her so she couldn’t be all bad.

Istredd on the other hand. 

He’d heard of Istredd. The man was Yen’s ex and Geralt’s former rival for her affection. Geralt had been jealous of the history teacher and the two had butted heads a few times over the years. So Eskel hadn’t had the best impression of him before they’d met. He’d been pleasantly surprised. The man seemed to be a kind hearted and gentle person. Even after a few glasses of sparkling wine, Eskel didn’t miss the way he circled around Yennefer as if she was the centre of his universe. Yen didn’t seem to mind the attention either. They certainly seemed to balance each other better than Geralt and Yen ever had. Eskel found himself in deep conversation with Istredd about a book he’d been reading about the Great Cleansing. He’d been fascinated to hear about Istredd’s theories of real life magic imbedded into their ancient history.

Magic was really cool. He loved magic. He wondered whether he should take Triss to see a magic show. The kind with bubbles and pretty lights.

Jaskier flitted easily between conversations, compliments and words of adoration flowing from his lips like a waterfall. He laughed and flirted and bounced about with endless energy. Renfri had seemed to have adopted the brunet as her personal human cat, and he was quite happy to sit with his head on her shoulder whilst Renfri absentmindedly petted his hair. 

Jaskier the cat. Eskel snorted at the image that popped into his brain. Geralt with wolf ears and Jaskier with cat ears. What an adorable pair they would make. If only they could stop pining already. 

Of course, eventually the conversation steered back to Ciri. Ciri, the one person they all had in common. Yennefer had casually mentioned one of the art galleries she was planning to take the girl on their road trip. The gallery currently held some of Yennefer’s own artwork so it was really a chance for her to show the young girl what she did, a chance to bond more. Eskel knew that Yennefer saw Ciri as a sort of daughter, he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if she ended up moving closer to Posada to be nearer Ciri. She missed her a lot when she was away and she’d regretted not spending the Solstice with them in person.

Naturally the conversation segued into her one about her father.

Jaskier froze still and was silent for the first time all night. 

“You alright there, Buttercup?” Yen asked the brunet with smirk. 

Eskel was starting to wonder whether she’d been manipulating the conversation the entire time just so she could watch Jaskier’s reaction. She must have known about whatever was going on with Jaskier and Geralt. If Geralt or one of the wolves hadn’t told her then Triss almost certainly had. He knew those two were incredibly close. 

“Fine.” Jaskier answered in a clipped tone. “Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m fine. My goodness is that the time?” He scrambled off of Renfri’s lap, stumbling slightly as he stood up for the first time in a while, and started looking around for his jacket. “Oh bollocks!”

Yennefer was more sober and therefore, faster. She had Jaskier’s coat tucked under her arm and she pushed him back into an empty seat. “Sit, Julian.”

“My name!” Jaskier cried indignantly. “is Jaskier.” 

“Whatever, what’s going on with you and Geralt?” Yennefer had Jaskier pinned under her stern violet gaze. 

Eskel didn’t envy the teacher. He’d been caught by Yennefer’s wrath before and it was not something to take lightly. There were times when it felt like Yennefer had the power to move the earth itself. 

It was bloody terrifying. 

He was just glad that most of the time Yen was on his side. She was a good friend, loyal to a fault, as long as you didn’t cross her. 

Eskel squeezed Triss’s hand, Triss wasn’t terrifying. She was the funny warm feeling that he felt in his stomach. She rested her head on his shoulder for barely a second before moving away. The whole table fell silent as they watched the altercation between Yen and Jaskier. 

“What?” Jaskier laughed nervously, his eyes flashing towards Tissaia. “Why would anything be going on between me and Ciri’s father?” 

He was blushing and his fingers were fiddling nervously with the buttons on his shirt.

Tissaia put a hand on Yennefer’s shoulder. “Yennefer.”

“No!” Yennefer snapped. “Look I don’t care if you’re shagging him or not, but he’s hurting and it’s your fault, Buttercup.” 

Tissaia raised her chin. “That’s enough, Yennefer.” 

Yennefer turned to Tissaia with fiery violet eyes but the headmistress didn’t even flinch, Eskel suddenly had a lot more respect for her. “Tissaia, I’m sorry but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“As headmistress at Dol Blathanna, I think I do.” Tissaia said sternly. “Jaskier is keeping his relationship with Mr Rivia strictly professional and your friend should understand that that is what is best for his daughter.” 

Jaskier squeaked in his seat. “Ah yes. That. What she said. That is what is happening. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m just…” He yawned dramatically “so tired. Long day at work. Thank you all for the most wonderful evening! Goodbye!” He yanked his coat from Yennefer’s hands and ran from the pub faster than lightning, stumbling against the doorframe on the way out. 

Yennefer was furious. 

“I had that under control!” She seethed. 

“Yenna.” Istredd put a hand on her arm but she shrugged him off.

“Don’t any of you care?” She looked around the group. “No, of course you don’t. You are all idiots.”

“Hey!” Lambert snapped, the word slurred slightly and his face was flushed red, clashing horribly with his hair. Eskel kicked his brother under the table. Now was not the time to challenge her. “Hey!” He repeated, this time directed at Eskel.

“Did you know Ciri rang me up last week?” Yennefer asked with a voice as cold as ice.

Eskel felt as if all the soul had been sucked out of him and he gripped Triss’s hand tighter for support. “Why would we know that, Yen?” He asked wearily, his vision was starting to spin slightly and quite honestly he would rather be whispering sweet nothings into Triss’s ear than listening to Yen. 

Triss was just so beautiful.

It might have been the alcohol but he was suddenly feeling rather smitten.

“She was in floods of tears. Her father hasn’t laughed in weeks and barely has the energy in the evenings to talk to her about her day at school. Her teacher has stopped smiling and acts as if he hates them all. She doesn’t understand but to Ciri the only thing that her teacher and her father have in common is her.” Yennefer explained sharply. 

Eskel furrowed his brow, trying to focus his remaining brain power that hadn’t been slowed by the booze on Yen’s words. He could have sworn she was a witch, no matter how much she drank she never seemed to get drunk like the rest of them. A quick glance round the table told him that the others were also having difficulties following Yen’s sharp tongue. 

It was down to him to figure out. 

Perhaps Triss could give him a clue. She was as clever as she was beautiful, and she was incredibly beautiful. 

“She blames herself?” Triss asked, her own words were barely slurred, the traitor. Another witch. She must be. 

“Wouldn’t you?” Yennefer snapped. “She doesn’t know what’s been going on because no one has fucking told her anything. She’s six but she’s not stupid. Now I’m not particularly fond of Buttercup or his relationship with Geralt, or whatever the fuck it is. Call it petty jealousy if it’ll make you feel better but I prefer calling it having standards.”

“Yenna.” Istredd said softly. 

Her eyes flashed to him and immediately she seemed to settle slightly. “But Ciri is getting caught in the crossfire. I am trying to protect her. I think we can all agree that she is what is important here.” 

Everyone in the room nodded quietly. 

“Triss, you and Esk have been thinking up a plan to fix this?” Yennefer asked. Lambert and Renfri raised their eyebrows at Eskel and he felt himself blush. 

Tissaia sighed. “I’ll be on my way, I don’t think I should hear anymore of this. The less I know the better.” She gathered up her purse and jacket. There was a quiet murmur of obligatory goodbyes before she walked from the room with a grace of a ballet dancer. Eskel was in awe. The woman had had her fair share of wine but it hadn’t seemed to have affected her at all. 

“We’ve been trying.” Triss admitted after Tissaia had left. “But Geralt and Jaskier have both cheered up so we thought maybe they’d moved on?”

Yennefer frowned. “Cheered up?”

“Yup. Old White Wolf’s been back to his usual grumpy self this week.” Renfi added as she sipped the last of her drink. “So tolerably grumpy instead of a completely miserable bastard.”

Everyone laughed at that. 

“And Jaskier was writing a new song in the staff room this week.” Triss said.

“Unfortunately.” Istredd drawled. “I was enjoying the peace and quiet.”

“Spoilsport.” Triss stuck her tongue out at the history teacher. 

“Some of us have work to do.” Istredd shot back.

Triss laughed. “I’ll give the parents your personal mobile number if you’re not careful!” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Istredd glared. 

“No, but I might if you don’t shut it.” Yennefer snapped. “So we all agree we need to do something to help?” 

There was a cheer of agreement. “For the record, I don’t care.” Lambert said loudly. 

“Shut up.” Renfri punched him in the arm. “You’re just jealous.”

“Am not.” He glared. 

“Oh really? Because don’t think I didn’t notice you watching that blond cat as he was leaving work the other day.” Renfri teased.

“Fuck off.” Lambert grumbled. “Fine. I’ll help.” 

“If it helps, I also really don’t care.” Istredd sighed.

“You don’t get a choice.” Yennefer smirked. “You’re helping.” 

“So where do we start?” Eskel asked. “And don’t say an intervention because we already tried that.”

Yennefer grinned, the sort of grin that sent chills up Eskel’s spine. 

“I am not an amateur, Esk. Now listen closely!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada!! I hope you liked it :) Let me know! Also I'm pretty sure I now just update this on Sundays... 
> 
> Anyhoo maybe come find me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) for more witcher fun! 
> 
> \- Wolfie


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I don't know what day of the week I'm on anymore. Sorry! 
> 
> I know there was some... disappointment with the way some of the characters acted in the last chapter? I'm not gonna lie, it hurt to read that. I would kindly ask that you refrain from character bashing in the comments and if you don't have something nice to say... just don't. I almost didn't bother posting this chapter at all as a result. That might seem weak of me but... there we go. I hope this chapter makes up for it! <3

It was ten o clock on a Monday morning and Jaskier was still in bed. 

He was in heaven.

He woke up naturally and peered at his phone, the numbers were blurry without his glasses but he could just about make it out. He smiled and hugged his phone to his chest before turning back over and pulling the covers over his head. 

He fucking loved the school holidays. 

He didn’t fall back asleep but his bed was just the perfect temperature and he wasn’t ready to get up yet. He could stay in bed all day if he wanted to, and the idea was incredibly tempting. His bliss only lasted another ten minutes before his bladder betrayed him. He sighed and felt around for his glasses before turning on the light. After he’d finished up in the bathroom, shower and all, he decided it was probably time for breakfast. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and his dressing gown before shuffling into the kitchen. After a few minutes of deliberation he decided that pancakes were on the menu. 

He’d been tempted by waffles but his waffle iron tucked away in the back of a cupboard and he honestly couldn’t be bothered to find it. So pancakes it was. He knew the recipe off by heart so it didn’t take long to whip up some batter. He peered at the mixture once it was finished and then dived straight back into his cupboards. It was the holidays and he wanted chocolate chips. He’d earned chocolate chips, it had been a hell of a term.

His relationship with Geralt had been all over the place and he felt liked he’d just gotten off one of those crazy rollercoasters. Between the fire and their sort of break up and then that rather splendid hour wrapped up in Geralt’s arms. 

Fuck.

It had been better than Jaskier had ever imagined. Unfortunately, in his post-sex daze he’d forgotten about the broken glass on the floor and Geralt had ended up having to pull shards of glass from his feet. The care with which the fireman had bandaged his feet had astounded him. For such a large man, Geralt was capable of being extremely gentle. Jaskier had been incredibly grateful that they’d already yelled out confessions of love, because the way Geralt had looked at him whilst he cleaned and bandaged the wounds and been all too much for his poor heart. 

They’d promised to avoid each other until summer now which was just heartbreaking but Jaskier had said himself, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t love Geralt. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve and he knew that anyone would take one look at them together and just know the truth of his feelings. 

It hurt, but it was necessary. They knew it was necessary. 

“Bollocks!” He yelled into the empty apartment. 

It wasn’t fair.

Why did he never have any luck in long term relationships?

The smell of burning pancakes hit his nose. “Oh shit! Cock!” He pulled the pan off the hob but it was too late. The first pancake was burnt. 

“Fuck’s sake.” He growled. 

He snapped a photo of the burnt breakfast and sent it to Geralt 

_J —This is your fault xxx_

He didn’t expected the fireman to reply straight away, if at all, after all they’d promised to stop talking to each other until summer. 

And yet, before he’d even picked up the next spoonful of batter, his phone had buzzed. 

_G — How is that my fault?_

Jaskier beamed. 

_J — I was too busy thinking about the other night. xxx_

He sighed happily as he watched the batter in the pan carefully. It was slowly starting to bubble and Jaskier was getting ready with his spatula to flip the pancake when his phone buzzed again. He groaned and stared intently at the pan. He could not answer it. He could not look at it. He was cooking! 

His phone buzzed again.

“Oh cock!” He quickly flipped the pancake and scrambled for his phone. 

_G — Sounds like a you problem._

_— Sorry I didn’t put any kisses._

Jaskier laughed and began to type. 

_J — Save them for summer, dear heart. I’ll make an IOU. xxx_

Geralt didn’t reply immediately this time which was excellent news for his pancakes. He finished up the rest of the pile and then pulled out a tub of cookies and cream ice-cream from his freezer. Once he was done, he held the plate up and took a selfie with his creation to send to Geralt. 

_J — I finished it! No thanks to you, darling! xxx_

Jaskier ate his breakfast happily. He fucking loved the school holidays. After breakfast he could go back to bed and watch television or read a book or just have a nap! He ran a hand through his damp hair whilst he considered his options. Maybe he could ring Pris and see if they could have a composing session. They hadn’t been in the studio in a while and he was itching to get something recorded. He’d been composing like crazy over the last week. Apparently getting fucked by the love of your life really did wonders for your motivation. 

The sugar was already beginning to kick in by the time he’d finished his breakfast and he was singing happily around the last few mouthfuls of pancake. He could barely contain the energy rush as his leg began to bounce under the table. He was halfway through the washing up, singing and dancing as he went, when his phone buzzed again.

He shook the bubbles from his hands and patted them dry on his dressing gown. 

_G — You wear glasses?_

Jaskier was about to respond but Geralt was still typing and beat him to it. 

_— They suit you._

_— A lot_.

Jaskier grinned at Geralt’s flurry of messages, unbelievably he was still typing. He considered replying to put Geralt out of his misery but honestly he was enjoying this too much. 

_— Are you cooking naked?_

_— Fuck. Hang on._

Jaskier’s phone began to ring in his hands and he laughed as he answered. “Are you ok, darling?” 

Geralt growled on the other end of the line. 

“If I’d known you would react like this to my glasses I would have worn them months ago!” He giggled.

“It’s not just the glasses.” Geralt grumbled. 

“Oh?”

“The dressing gown, your hair, your stupid face.” Geralt continued. 

“My dressing gown?” Jaskier asked incredulously. His dressing gown was the fluffy cosy sort and probably one of the least sexy things in his wardrobe. “Oh and hang on! My stupid face?! I thought you liked my face!” He absolutely did not shriek. 

“You look cute.” Geralt admitted quietly. “Like you’ve just woken up, all disheveled and soft.”

“I have just woken up.” Jaskier replied slowly not really understanding Geralt’s point. 

He heard a long drawn out sigh on the other end of the line. “I wish I was there with you, waking up, making pancakes.”

“Are the pancakes before or after morning sex?” Jaskier teased as he hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter. 

Geralt grumbled something unintelligible on the other end of the phone.

“What was that, dear heart?” Jaskier laughed, oh he was having far too much fun with this.

“I’m at work.” Geralt muttered. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Oh but darling, you make it too easy.” Jaskier giggled.

Geralt was silent whilst Jaskier got over his laughing fit.

“After.” He spoke softly, in a low husky voice that made Jaskier feel things. 

“W-what?” He stammered.

“The pancakes, would be after.” Geralt practically purred in his ear and Jaskier almost fell of the kitchen counter. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier whined. “I thought you were at work.” 

Geralt laughed. “You started it.”

“Yes, true but we can’t finish it!” He pouted.

“Ciri is away with Yen this week, girl’s trip.” Geralt answered casually. 

Too casually.

Jaskier grinned. “Dinner at your place then?” 

“If you’d like.”

“Oh dearest, I would love nothing more.” Jaskier sighed wistfully. “But weren’t we supposed to be waiting until summer?”

“Fuck summer.” Geralt said succinctly.

“Rather you fuck me.” Jaskier teased. “Or I could fuck you. I am not opposed to that.”

Geralt ignored him, which was just rude! But he supposed Geralt couldn’t exactly answer that one appropriately whilst at work. Jaskier did find the idea of the fireman getting all flustered at work rather titillating, as long as Geralt never decided to turn the tables on him. He worked with children after all. 

“No one needs to know. There’s no one at my house, no one at yours either. It’s a week of freedom.” Geralt’s voice was quieter now, and Jaskier heard faint voices in the background.

“Forbidden love. How exciting!” He sang. “Let me know when you’re off work, and text me your address. I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

Jaskier took a deep breath. “I really do love you, you know. I know it seems too soon and we have barely even started this relationship but I do, I love you.”

Geralt laughed quietly. “I know. You too. More than I should.” Geralt sighed. “I have to go.”

“I know.” Jaskier moaned. “But I’ll see you later, my dear.”

“Yeah. See you.”

The line went dead.

Jaskier let out a shaky breath. A whole week where he could see Geralt whenever they pleased, well when Geralt wasn’t at work at any rate. The added forbidden element of the whole affair only made it more exciting, some dark secret that only the two of them could know. He wondered when it had all gotten so out of control. When had he gone from harmlessly admiring Geralt’s god-like physique to orchestrating forbidden dates and stolen kisses whilst no one else was paying attention. 

He remembered feeling floored at just the prospect of Geralt’s attention being on him.

But now that he had it. 

To the gods he never wanted it to end. 

* * *

Jaskier Pankratz was inside Geralt Rivia’s house. 

And the world was not on fire. There were no demons reaching up from hell ready to drag him below to their fiery depths. Stregobor wasn’t lurking around the corner like a ghost ready to hang him from the battlements for his behaviour. Philippa Eilhart wasn’t looming over him with a clipboard in her hand ready to toss him aside like she had with the others. 

He peered around the living room. There were framed pictures of Ciri and Roach pinned to the wall, next to ones of a couple holding a tiny baby. Ciri’s parent’s he supposed. He’d never seen a picture of them before. There were a few photos of Geralt’s colleagues at the pub. His heart ached when he saw the photos of Geralt and Yennefer. 

Fuck they were a beautiful couple.

Yennefer’s stunning violet eyes against the natural tan of her skin and raven black hair was the opposite of Geralt and his silver hair, pale skin and warm amber eyes. Together they looked like something out of a fairy tale. 

He stared for too long.

Geralt cleared his throat behind him.

Jaskier turned around with a sheepish smile and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Sorry. I’m being nosey.”

Geralt just tilted his head and smiled fondly at his antics before pulling him into a warm embrace. 

Jaskier melted into Geralt’s arms. It had been just over a week since he’d seen the fireman and he had been yearning for his touch ever since. 

Geralt buried his face in Jaskier’s hair and hummed contently. “You smell good.” He murmured. 

Jaskier just pressed his face into the crook of Geralt’s neck, the frames of his glasses squashed against his nose and cheeks uncomfortably but he didn’t care, not in that moment. He had no intention of leaving any time soon. For once he felt calm, the restlessness that followed him day in day out ebbed away as Geralt held him close. 

“You brought your guitar?” Geralt eventually broke the silence that had fallen between them.

Jaskier finally pulled back from Geralt’s chest but kept his hands on the fireman’s arms. “Lute, actually. I keep my guitar in a cupboard at school now. I can’t afford to replace it again for a while.”

Geralt guided Jaskier to the sofa gently and tugged at the strap of Jaskier’s lute case. “Play for me?”

“What?” He asked in disbelief. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d decided to bring his instrument along. He just knew whenever he was in the vicinity of the firefighter he was almost overwhelmed with the urge to play, to compose, to sing ballads about his eyes… amongst other things. Jaskier now had a good few rhyming couplets about the delicious curve of Geralt’s butt. That being said, he hadn’t actually expected to play, especially not at Geralt’s request.

Geralt cupped his cheek and gave him a small half smile. “I’ve never heard you play, not in person, not properly.” 

Jaskier’s breath caught in his chest and gazed into Geralt’s beautiful golden eyes in awe. 

How was this man even real?

Maybe this was all a dream?

Surely he didn’t deserve all of this. 

He licked his lips and leaned into Geralt’s touch. “What shall I play?”

Geralt captured Jaskier’s lips in a chaste kiss. Jaskier hummed happily into the kiss that ended far too quickly. “You’re the musician. Play something that makes you happy.”

“Three things that make you happy?” Jaskier teased. 

Geralt didn’t hesitate like he had all those months ago. 

“You.”

“Geralt!” He whined and buried his face in the man’s chest. “You cannot say things like that!”

“Too bad.” He smirked. 

“No regrets?” Jaskier asked timidly. 

“None. You?” Geralt frowned. 

Jaskier laughed. “My only regret is that we can’t enjoy this until the end of term.” 

“Hmm.”

Jaskier gently bumped his forehead against Geralt’s “Three things, Geralt. Even my buttercups can count to three.”

“You, your smile, your eyes.” Geralt listed off, his eyes boring down into Jaskier’s. There was barely any space between them like this and every word, every breath tickled against Jaskier’s lips. 

“I’m on your list three times?” He laughed breathlessly. 

“Problem?” Geralt murmured. 

Jaskier closed the gap between their lips and kissed Geralt, his fingers gripping onto Geralt’s biceps as the man pulled him closer. 

When they pulled away they were both breathless. “No.” Jaskier whispered. “No problem.”

“Good.” Geralt laughed and stepped away, putting a wider gap between them. Jaskier pouted but let Geralt go. He didn’t want to appear too needy. “Now play for me?”

So he did. Jaskier pulled out his lute and quickly made sure his precious instrument was in tune before starting to strum on the strings. He played a new composition, it wasn’t quite finished yet but with Geralt looking at him as if he’d hung the stars and moon he couldn’t help but play the melody that escaped him whenever he thought of his silver-haired fireman. 

There were no words. 

Not yet. 

But right now it didn’t need any. The soft sound of lute strings filled the living room. Jaskier closed his eyes as he played. He couldn’t handle the overwhelming love in his heart whenever he caught Geralt’s gaze. It was too much. Geralt was too much. 

So he let himself get lost in the music. He let his fingers dance on the strings of his lute, let every note tell a story of love, of destiny, of heartbreak. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying until Geralt brushed a finger across his cheek to wipe away the tears. His eyes fluttered open and Geralt’s eyes were the only thing he could see. The rest of the world just faded away. It was Geralt and only Geralt. 

Nothing else mattered in that moment. 

Gods he was so gone on the man.

And by some miracle of fate, Geralt seemed to feel the same way. 

Geralt gently pulled the lute from his trembling fingers and placed it carefully on the floor beside them. Jaskier half laughed and half sobbed as he lunged forward to kiss Geralt, like a starved man at a banquet.

He needed. 

Gods he needed.

Geralt returned the kiss eagerly and it wasn’t long before they fell into bed together, the need to be close, to feel each other becoming too much for them. The knowledge that after this week they would be parted for months again, that the world was against them right now and they had to make use of every second that they had together until they were torn apart. 

* * *

It was half past six on a Tuesday morning and Jaskier was woken up by the alarm clock. 

He groaned and buried his face in Geralt’s hair. 

In Geralt’s hair?

He blinked as the man in question thumped the clock on the bedside table with a grunt before rolling onto his back and pulling Jaskier to his chest. His very naked chest. Jaskier held his breath as he let his fingers trail across the expanse of exposed marred skin. Geralt hadn’t taken his shirt off the first time they’d hooked up, after Geralt had spontaneously turned up at his flat, and last night Jaskier had found out why. 

Across Geralt’s chest was a large puckered scar, the kind left behind by some serious burns. Jaskier didn’t question it and Geralt didn’t offer any explanation, they’d been too busy with other more important matters at the time but now, in the quiet of the morning, Jaskier had time to wonder. 

Geralt’s hand clasped over his. “Morning.” He grumbled, his eyes were still shut but there was a faint smile on his lips. 

“Hey.” Jaskier replied softly. 

“I have work.” Geralt said bluntly, finally his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at Jaskier sadly. 

“Yeah.” Jaskier pouted. “I gathered.”

“Could call in sick?” Geralt suggested with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“We could make pancakes.” Jaskier added his voice full of longing.

Geralt hummed and rolled them over so Jaskier was on his back, looking up at the beautiful creature that he was allowed to love. Geralt brushed Jaskier’s fringe from out of his eyes and then leant down to place a lazy kiss on his lips. Jaskier let his hands thread through Geralt’s loose hair. It was knotted from where Geralt had slept on it and from Jaskier’s wandering hands the night before but Geralt didn’t complain when Jaskier’s fingers caught in the knots, he just moaned into the kiss and caught Jaskier’s bottom lip between his teeth. 

The alarm clock started to beep again and Geralt groaned, rolling off of Jaskier so he could turn it off. 

He sat on the side of the bed with a heavy sigh. Jaskier crawled across to sit behind him. He pressed a kiss to Geralt’s shoulder. He let his hand trail down Geralt’s arm and then rest his chin on his shoulder. “You have to go.” He stated with a sigh.

“Yeah.” Geralt grunted. 

“That’s ok. Just let me get my stuff together, I should get home too. I have to sort out my lesson plans.” Jaskier couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. 

Fuck.

When had leaving Geralt become so difficult?

Were they just in their honeymoon period?

That must be it. He remembered his relationships from college and university burning this brightly at the beginning too. The need to be in each others space constantly, every second apart like pure torture. He always hoped it would never end, but it always did. The initial spark would fade and his partners would lose interest in him. That’s all he was good for in the end, a good fuck.

Still, he was an optimist. Maybe this time would be different? He prayed to all the gods that this time would be different. 

It took them a while to get dressed. Partly because every time they made eye contact they were drawn together, like there was some kind of bond between them, some kind of spell. It was as though now that they had tasted each other, now they had been allowed to touch, caress and love, it was impossible to do anything else. Eventually they were sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. Two large mugs of coffee, one black and one doused in sugar and cinnamon, were place between them. Geralt was munching on some toast but Jaskier found it difficult to eat in the mornings so he settled for watching Geralt eat. 

“What are we going to tell Ciri?” He asked quietly. 

Geralt froze and scowled at him. “Nothing.”

Jaskier sighed. He had expected that answer. He didn’t know why he’d gotten his hopes up for anything else. It had been said time and time again, they couldn’t date. They couldn’t love each other. They were friends. 

Friends that were in love.

Or was it only lust and infatuation?

No. For Jaskier, at least, it was love. He knew love. He knew the way it made him feel. He knew the longing in his heart, the way he trembled under Geralt’s touch, the way Geralt’s very existence made him want to sing. 

He had to trust that Geralt loved him too. That against all the odds they had come together.

“Nothing, yet.” Geralt amended softly, taking Jaskier’s hand in his. 

Jaskier smiled sadly. “Of course, and in the summer?”

Geralt shrugged. 

“Geralt.” Jaskier moaned. “Please.”

“I don’t know, Jask.” Geralt admitted. 

“Are you still angry at me?” He asked quietly. 

They still hadn’t really talked about the weeks when Jaskier had effectively ghosted Geralt. It was painful for both of them, for whilst Jaskier had had the right intentions, the sudden cut off of their growing and intimate friendship had acted like a knife in Geralt’s back. He was usually slow to trust, unlike Jaskier, and Jaskier’s quick and thoughtless actions had burnt away that trust. 

Geralt frowned as he considered the question, a storm brewing in his gorgeous eyes. Jaskier turned his wrist and gripped Geralt’s hand so he couldn’t pull away. 

“I’m not angry.” Geralt sighed. “You did it for Ciri.”

Jaskier bit his tongue so he wouldn’t interrupt Geralt. 

“I’m cross at myself.” The fireman continued. “I didn’t have your strength to stay away, and now I’ve put everything at risk.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathed “No. You haven’t.”

“I have!” Geralt snapped. “You could lose your job, Ciri could lose her teacher, I could lose you.”

“We can be careful.” Jaskier insisted but Geralt just scoffed. “We can!”

“Is this being careful, Jask?” Geralt growled. 

“Well, no. Not exactly.” Jaskier admitted. “But it’s one week of lover’s bliss whilst no one else can spy on us.”

“And then after that?” Geralt grumbled “When I see you at school? The next parent’s evening?”

“Then we will have to act.” Jaskier said stubbornly. “Staying away from you was too hard, Geralt, dear heart, please.”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s jaw was clenched and Jaskier could see the tension he was holding in his shoulders.

“I just think we should have a plan for summer. If you still want me around by then.” Jaskier said, his fingers tapping anxiously on the table.

“I will.” Geralt answered firmly. 

“You can’t know that.”

“I do.” Geralt insisted. 

Jaskier narrowed is eyes at Geralt and then swiped up his mug of coffee. It was too early for this. He licked his lips, the taste of coffee and cinnamon clung to them. 

“Yeah well.” He hummed, not quite believing Geralt, not believing that he could be enough to hold his attention for that long. 

“We’ll tell her we’re friends. Go from there.” Geralt suggested.

Jaskier glanced up at his lover through his eyelashes, not quite brave enough to full on look him in the eyes. Geralt’s gaze was unwavering as always. Melitele, the intensity of it would be the death of him one of these days. 

Jaskier leaned across the table and pulled Geralt into a searing kiss that made his whole world spin. 

When he pulled away he let his forehead rest against Geralt’s. “Ok, dear heart. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“So you’ll come over tonight?” Geralt asked. 

Jaskier nodded. “Or you can visit my flat. I could teach you how to play piano!”

“Hmm.” Geralt answered dryly but there was a small smile gracing his lips. 

“Although,” Jaskier sang mirthfully. “I think sleeping with one of my students would be a step too far even for me.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt snapped and gently cuffed him over the back of the head.

“What?!” He laughed. 

“Get out of my house, Jaskier. I have to go to work.” Geralt grumbled with an exasperated smile.

“Alright! Alright!” Jaskier downed the rest of his coffee and picked up his lute case. “I’m going, my dear, but I shall see you tonight.”

He placed a kiss on the top of Geralt’s head and ran for the door. If he was lucky there would be a bus back to his part of town soon. 

He hummed happily as he skipped from the house towards the bus stop. It was going to be a brilliant week!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> \- Wolfie


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late!! But I have the wonderful Elliestormfound now reminding me to post cos I've got a terrible memory so hopefully the next chapter will actually be on Sunday as scheduled.

Yennefer pulled up to the school gates in her car. It was two weeks into the summer term at Dol Blathanna and three weeks since she’d last seen Ciri. She rolled her eyes at her own sentimentality. She’d always adored Duny and Pavetta’s daughter. She’d been dating Geralt when Pavetta had announced her pregnancy. It had been a strange moment for Yennefer. She’d never thought of herself as particularly maternal and children had never been something she’d craved in life, but when Pavetta had shown them all the photos of the tiny baby growing inside her womb, something had changed irrevocably. 

She wanted that. 

She’d always thought her career and financial security would be everything for her, but how could it be everything when she was missing a family. 

She scoffed. She’d been naive at the time. She’d thought that her relationship with Geralt would last that time, that it would be the time when they didn’t crash and burn. She’d even considered asking him to marry her. She had loved him and they’d been on and off for years already at that point. Geralt and Yennefer, the romantic saga that would put fairytales to shame. Duny and Pavetta had even asked them both to be godparents. 

A month later Geralt and Yennefer had split up… again.

But now, seven year old Ciri was bringing back all those old wants and aches. She’d spent a week with the girl in Cidaris before handing her back to Geralt in Posada, just in time for the girl’s birthday. Yennefer had stuck around long enough to help Geralt wrangle Ciri’s classmates for her party and then she’d made her way back home.

Only it didn’t feel like home anymore. 

She hated that she was always the one to leave her family behind. She hated that she had almost become an outsider to the most important people in her life. She was terrified that they would move on without her. Triss seemed to rather taken with Eskel, and Yennefer felt a twinge of regret for not introducing her own friends to the family sooner. Geralt’s family had become her own, but Yennefer had never quite managed to allow Geralt into her own life. The only person he had met had been Istredd, and that was because Is had confronted Geralt just after she’d started dating him at University. 

She didn’t want to miss out anymore. 

She’d already started looking for flats halfway between Cidaris and Posada, she’d even thought about moving her gallery to Vengerberg. Her family had originated from there generations ago and she’d always thought it would be a little on the nose to move there but there was something poetic about it that intrigued her, that was after all why she had chosen Aedirn out of all the galleries offered to her at a young age. A Vengerberg canvas in Aedirn Gallery. The irony had been too good to resist. 

Vengerberg was also much closer to Posada and to Ciri. 

For now she had to be contented with ferrying back and forth across the Continent whenever she wanted to see Ciri, the girl she had come to love as a daughter. 

She groaned when she noticed Jaskier standing amongst the children. Of course it was his turn on after school duty. Nevertheless she stood tall and glided towards the gaggle of children. She’d texted Coën from the petrol station on the way to Posada to let him know that he didn’t need to pick Ciri up from school tonight. Vesemir would be over after work to look after Ciri this evening. Yennefer and Geralt would have the delight of summer parents’ evening. Yennefer was rather looking forward to being on the other side of it for the first time. Poor Buttercup didn’t stand a chance. 

Ciri screamed excitably when she saw Yennefer approach and Yennefer soon had her arms full of her daughter as she knelt down to hug Ciri.

“Auntie Yen!” Ciri laughed. “But I only just saw you!”

“I know, Princess,” Yennefer hugged the girl tightly “but I couldn’t stay away.”

“Are you staying this time?” Ciri asked, looking up at her with wide emerald eyes.

Yennefer sighed with a heavy heart. “Not this time, Ciri, but I’m working on it, alright?”

Ciri pouted and scrunched her nose up. “But…”

Yennefer bopped her nose. “Patience, Ciri.”

“Yennefer, what a delight.” Jaskier drawled sarcastically. 

Yennefer looked up at the teacher with a smirk. Oh the things she would say if they weren’t in front of the children. 

“Buttercup, pleasure as always.” Yennefer returned his sarcasm.

It wasn’t that she hated the teacher, quite the opposite in fact, she actually admired him in some ways but at this point the scathing remarks and barely concealed loathing was just a part of their routine. 

“Mr Rivia didn’t mention that you would be picking up Ciri this evening.” Jaskier tilted his head, tossing his fringe away from his eyes. “It really is common courtesy to let the school know.”

“Geralt doesn’t know, Buttercup. It’s called a surprise which requires subtlety and discretion, neither of which you possess.” Yennefer smiled at the teacher. 

He glowered at her with blue fire dancing in his eyes. 

“Oh I can be very discreet, I’m more discreet than, than a Redanian spy!” Jaskier huffed with his hands on his hips. “Oh no.” His jaw dropped at some unspoken realisation. “No no. No!” He pointed at her accusingly. 

“What’s wrong Mr Jaskier?” Ciri asked. 

Jaskier blushed and stammered. “Oh, nothing. Nothing’s wrong, little Buttercup.”

“Mr Jaskier!” Ciri gasped. “Are you lying to me?” 

Jaskier froze and Yennefer cackled. “Yes, Jaskier, Are you lying to her?”

He stammered unintelligibly before clearing his throat. “Right. Yes, Sorry Ciri. I meant that there is nothing wrong that you need to worry about, I just remembered something.”

Ciri put her hands on her hips, looking a little too much like Jaskier’s mini-me for Yennefer’s liking. “About Auntie Yen?”

Yennefer smirked. She could see the litany of curses Jaskier was saying in his head. He smiled brightly down at Ciri, though Yennefer could see the anger still dancing in his eyes when he glanced back at her. “I had just forgotten it was parents’ evening tonight. Yennefer reminded me, that’s all Ciri, I promise.”

Ciri scowled up at her teacher, scrutinising his words and then broke into her own dazzling smile. “Ok!”

Jaskier visibly relaxed. “So, Yennefer, will you be looking after Ciri tonight?” 

Yennefer shook her head. “Not this time, Buttercup. I will be joining Geralt for parents’ evening.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”

Ciri squealed. “Are you and dad getting back together?”

Jaskier’s face lost all colour. “An… unexpected development.” His voice cracked. 

Yennefer sighed. She didn’t want to get Ciri’s hopes up. She had no intention on getting back together with Geralt, she’d just been trying to get a rise out of the teacher, which had absolutely worked. “We can discuss this in the car, Cirilla. Come now.”

It took a while but Yennefer eventually managed to convince Ciri that she was, in fact, not dating Geralt again. The young girl seemed a little disappointed by this. 

“He just gets lonely.” She sniffed. “He tries to hide it but I see it, when he doesn’t realise I’m looking.” 

“I know, Princess, but Geralt and I,” Yennefer sighed “We weren’t a good match.”

Ciri scrunched her nose up. “I just thought, if Geralt’s my dad and you were dating then… that would make you my mum.” 

Yennefer almost crashed the car. As it was she had to pull over, her hands were shaking too much on the steering wheel. 

“Auntie Yen?” Ciri asked quietly. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you called me mum’” Yennefer took Ciri’s little hand in hers and squeezed tightly. “I can be that, with or without Geralt.”

Ciri grinned and unbuckled her seatbelt before clambering into Yennefer’s lap. 

“Ok, Mum.” Ciri mumbled as she hugged Yennefer tightly. Yennefer felt like she couldn’t breathe, like a single breath would shatter the moment and she’d wake up back in Cidaris and this would have all been a dream. 

She settled for holding the girl in her arms in blessed silence, holding onto the feeling for as long as she possibly could and praying to the gods that the moment would last forever. 

* * *

Yennefer had just about managed to find something edible enough to feed Ciri for dinner. She’d been disgusted at the amount of tins in the cupboards compared to the fresh vegetables in the fridge. Luckily, Geralt seemed to have a better stock of frozen vegetables to make up for the lack of fresh produce. Ciri had grumbled about it and said that Coën and Geralt usually let her have pizza and chips. 

Yennefer challenged this proclamation with a stare and eventually Ciri mumbled something about pizza and chips being a Friday or weekend treat. 

Ciri was now scowling at the plate of chicken and vegetables in front of her. Yennefer rolled her eyes. 

“Ciri, you have got to eat something.” She sighed. “You’ve even got chips.” 

“I don’t like spinach.” Ciri pouted. 

“You ate it in Cidaris.” Yennefer stated cooly. “What’s changed, Princess?” 

Ciri scrunched up her nose. “Slimy, tastes funny.” 

Yennefer narrowed her eyes at the greenery on Ciri’s plate. “Let me try.”

Ciri pushed the plate towards her and Yennefer took a forkful, it tasted exactly the same as when she’d made it for Ciri back at her flat in Cidaris. She pursed her lips together and told Ciri to close her eyes. 

“Why?” Ciri asked. 

“The magic only works if you have your eyes shut, Princess.” Yennefer said calmly, allowing herself a small smile when she noticed Ciri trying to peek from behind her hands. “Eyes shut, Ciri.”

“Fine!” The young girl huffed. 

Yennefer moved the spinach around on her plate and whispered a low fake incantation under her breath, just loud enough so the girl could hear. Ciri giggled and wiggled excitably in her seat. 

“Now, Ciri. You must understand that Geralt can’t do this and it takes a lot of power so I can’t do it every meal time, alright?” Yennefer stated firmly, her hand hovering over Ciri’s plate. 

“Yes, Mum.” Ciri drawled and Yennefer knew if the girl’s eyes were open she’d be rolling them. 

“Good, now open your eyes and eat your dinner.” Yennefer said, pulling her hand away just as Ciri opened her eyes. 

Ciri wolfed down her dinner without another word and Yennefer let out a small sigh of relief. After dinner, Yennefer plopped Ciri down in front of the TV to watch that pony show that she was so fond of, Geralt’s influence no doubt. 

She sat down beside Ciri, scrolling through her social media on her phone. She shared a few posts from upcoming artists that she wanted to promote and tapped out a few biting remarks on replies that were from sensitive assholes who didn’t like that a woman was successful in their industry. She vaguely tried to follow the plot of the episode that Ciri was watching but she’d never understood the talking ponies. 

She looked up when she heard keys in the door. 

“Dad!” Ciri jumped up and ran to the front door. “Uncle Vesemir!”

Geralt picked Ciri up as she jumped at him. “Hi Princess, good day at school?” He asked before noticing Yennefer lounging on the sofa. “Yen?”

“Geralt.” She smiled and made her way across the room. “Vesemir.”

“Hello Yennefer.” The older man nodded. 

Geralt shifted Ciri into one arm and pulled Yennefer in for a hug.

“I didn’t know you were visiting?” He asked gently. 

She kissed his cheek and the pulled away to ruffle Ciri’s hair. “I was hoping to join you for parents’ evening. She’s my goddaughter too. I want to be a bigger part of her life, Geralt.” 

Geralt scowled and glanced at Vesemir. “Yen.” He sighed with a sad smile. “I don’t think—”

“Not like that.” She swatted his arm. “I’m doing this for Ciri, Geralt. Not for you.”

Geralt visibly relaxed. “Right.”

“Mum can do magic!” Ciri shouted, a little too loudly judging by the way Geralt winced.

He raised an eyebrow at Yennefer. “Mum?”

“Obviously, Dad you never told me Mum was magic!” Ciri pouted. 

Geralt hummed and put Ciri down on the floor, kneeling next to her. “Well she never told me, cub.”

Ciri covered her mouth with her hands, her emerald eyes went wide. “Was it meant to be a secret?” She mumbled behind her hands. 

Yennefer shook her head. “Not at all, your father just never noticed.”

Geralt grumbled. 

“Only the wisest of people realised, little sparrow.” Vesemir chuckled and moved further into the living room. “Ciri, are you going to show me what you’ve learnt on that instrument of yours? Geralt says Priscilla has been very impressed with how quickly you’ve picked it up.”

Ciri grinned and ran to the corner of the room the pick up the small ukulele case. “Mr Jaskier helps me during lunch sometimes! He says that practice makes perfect and even Mr Jaskier needs to keep practicing to learn new things all the time!” 

“Does he now?” Yennefer smirked at Geralt who had suddenly gone very still. 

“Yup!” Ciri grinned and pulled out a small plastic whistle. “This helps to make sure the strings sound right.” She explained and then started to blow on the whistle, and plucking at the strings of the small instrument.

“That’s very clever, little sparrow. Show me, how do I hold it?” Vesemir asked warmly. 

And just like that the old man had Ciri’s full focus. 

Geralt leant against the wall with his arms cross. His hair was pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head today, not his usual look but one that was rather handsome. Yennefer felt a pang of regret and yearning at the loss of their relationship but it passed quickly. They’d both moved on for a good reason, and things were going well with Istredd, slowly but well. 

“Why are you here, Yen?” Geralt asked quietly. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “I already told you that, Geralt.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is ever so simple with you.”

“Can’t you just trust me for once?” Yennefer asked, bristling a little at his accusation. 

He was right, of course, she did have an ulterior motive for being here. She wanted to watch his interactions with the teacher, perhaps plant a few seeds of jealousy so they’d have to act on their feelings. This was her first plan. Jaskier knew that Yennefer was Geralt’s ex so he would no doubt be envious to see them co-parenting Ciri. She just needed to make sure she didn’t overdo it and put the teacher off. 

If this failed then she had another idea. She wondered whether Jaskier knew that Geralt was attracted to men. Geralt didn’t exactly radiate queer vibes and passed very well as a straight man when it suited him. Therefore she’d been in contact with another one of Geralt’s exes, an older man that he’d dated briefly when they’d been broken up. Regis and Geralt’s relationship hadn’t ended badly and the two were still friends. They didn’t see each other very often due to work commitments but they had the kind of friendship that lasted regardless of time and distance. Regis had been delighted to hear about Geralt’s little infatuation with Jaskier and had agreed to help out should it be required. 

But that was Plan B. Plan A was tonight. 

He narrowed his eyes and then nodded with a low hum. 

“We have about an hour before we need to leave. I have the last slot with Jaskier. Vesemir will be here to put Ciri to bed.” Geralt explained. 

Yennefer nodded and pulled her friend over to the living room where Ciri was patiently trying to teach Vesemir how to play a nursery rhyme on her ukulele. “Come on, White Wolf, what have I missed?”

* * *

“You don’t have to do this, Yen.” Geralt grumbled as they strode into reception together. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes. Geralt had said the same thing at least a dozen times on the drive to the school. At least he’d had the common sense to let her drive instead of going in that disgusting truck. “I want to do this, Geralt, and your whining is not going to change my mind so shut up and try not to look like I’m leading you to the gallows.”

“Feels like it.” He muttered. 

At this rate her eyes would be stuck in the back of her head. She linked her arm with his as they entered the foyer. Triss greeted them with a wave. 

“Yen!” She called happily. “Geralt.”

“Hi Triss.” Yennefer smiled at her friend, a little envious of her easy going nature. There wasn’t a single person that didn’t adore Triss, she just had this way about her that made you want to be her friend, made you want to be better. Yennefer was not immune to this. It was one of the reasons they had remained friends for so many years. 

“Do we need to sign in?” Geralt asked, straight to the point as always. 

Triss passed him the register. “Just like before.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully. “Hopefully not.” He gave Triss a sheepish smile.

“No.” She agreed with a laugh. “I would really prefer it if we didn’t have to call the police.”

Yennefer frowned as she looked between her ex and her best friend. “The police?” She asked haughtily. 

“A misunderstanding.” Geralt grumbled. “If you’re staying the night I’ll tell you later.” 

“Staying the night?” Triss asked, taking back the register with a raised eyebrow. 

“School hall?” Geralt asked, ignoring Triss’s look of surprise. 

“Umm. Yes. That’s right.” Triss was still eyeballing them. 

“I’ll text you later.” Yennefer murmured and followed Geralt towards the main hall. 

There were tables stationed all around the room, just like she remembered from her time as a teachers. Fuck she hated Parents’ Evening. It had been hell on earth. She caught Istredd’s eyes across the room and gave him a small smile. She was grateful that Geralt had book the last slot of the evening, it meant that there was a chance she could see Istredd when he was done. Luckily it was a Friday which meant that even if she didn’t get to see him tonight, there was always the weekend. 

“Ah, Geralt!” Jaskier waved them over with a smile as another couple stood up to leave. “Yennefer.” He added more cooly. 

Yennefer frowned. Triss and Eskel hadn’t been lying when they’d said that both Geralt and Jaskier had stopped moping around, but she hadn’t been expecting Jaskier to act so friendly towards Geralt, especially after weeks of supposedly avoiding him.

What the fuck was going on?

She glanced over at Geralt to see his reaction.

The man was fucking blushing. 

“Mr Pankratz.” He shook Jaskier’s hand, smiling far too fondly for Yennefer’s liking.

Now, many people said that Geralt Rivia was hard to read. He had a habit of not saying much, especially when he was feeling overwhelmed, but Yennefer had always found him to be an open book. His face didn’t hide much and she had learnt to read even the smallest twitch of a smile dancing on his lips. So the way he smiled so openly at Jaskier told Yennefer everything she needed to know. 

“Geralt,” She whispered in his ear, gripping his arm tightly. “Tell me, exactly how long have you two been fucking?” 

Geralt growled and pulled away from her. “What the fuck, Yen?”

Jaskier laughed nervously. “Geralt? What’s going on?”

Geralt’s face was like thunder. “Nothing. Right Yen?” He asked pointedly, glancing over at Tissaia’s table. 

Ah yes. Tissaia was currently headmistress, she’d heard all about that from Triss and Is. 

“Oh no one is supposed to know!” She said a little too loudly. 

“Shut up, Yen.” Geralt grumbled.

“Know what?” Jaskier asked. Geralt’s eyes flashed to Jaskier dangerously. “Oooh. That. Right. Yes.” 

Yennefer smiled sweetly at the two idiots in front of her. “So, how long?” 

“How long have I been teaching Ciri?” Jaskier asked pointedly. 

Yennefer smirked but decided to it go. They were here to discuss her daughter after all. “Ciri, right yes of course. Since September I assume.”

“That’s right.” Jaskier said firmly. “The whole class has made excellent progress with learning sign language, one of my Buttercups is deaf,” He explained “but young Ciri is leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of them. She has the amazing ability to absorb new information and a wonderful dedication to her class work and friends.”

Yennefer smiled, genuinely for the first time since they’d entered the hall. She knew Ciri was special but hearing Jaskier confirm it warmed her usually icy heart. 

“I am concerned that she’s throwing herself into her work instead of learning to process the trauma in her life.” Jaskier added. “Did you think anymore about what I said, Geralt?”

Geralt nodded. “I’ve been looking. I just…” He paused and frowned as he tried to gather his words. “I don’t know how to talk to Ciri about it.” He admitted. 

“About what?” Yennefer asked. “Maybe I can help?”

Jaskier looked at Geralt with a tilt of his head. Geralt gave a small nod.

Yennefer scoffed, apparently they were communicating non-verbally now as well. What a fucking delight!

“I suggested that Ciri might benefit from some therapy.” Jaskier said quietly. “She’s been through, gods, she’s been through so much.”

“But she’s fine.” Yennefer interjected. 

“On the surface” Jaskier agreed “but we don’t know, we can’t know, how much she’s bottling up underneath.”

“It’s a good idea, Yen.” Geralt said softly. 

Yennefer sighed. She hated it but they were right. She remembered her own therapist from her childhood, they weren’t happy memories and the thought of Ciri having to go through the same thing made her want to scream, but in the end it had helped her. It was just a difficult process with no clear step by step journey, some days it felt like the therapy just made it worse before it got better again. 

“Yen?” Geralt took her hand and squeezed gently. 

“I’ll talk to her” She agreed “but the decision is hers.”

“That’s all we can ask.” Jaskier smiled sadly and then immediately brightened up. “Pris tells me her ukulele lessons are going wonderfully! She might even want to consider getting a guitar soon, it will be a little difficult for her to hold an adult guitar but there are smaller sizes that she can look at, it will be more challenging than the ukulele. There are six strings rather the four on the ukulele. My lute has thirteen so we don’t recommend that one for a while.” 

“Not everyone wants to learn every stringed instrument in existence, Buttercup.” Yennefer said dryly. 

“Which is a tragedy!” Jaskier laughed. “And I’ll have you know, I bought a flute the other day. I’m branching out.” 

Yennefer smirked. “Practicing your blowing skills?”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at her with a playful smile. “Oh, darling, I don’t need any practice with that.” 

Geralt cleared his throat and blushed vividly. “Let’s stay on topic shall we?” 

Jaskier and Yennefer, surprisingly, laughed in unison at Geralt’s discomfort. 

Well wasn’t that an unexpected development?

Perhaps Jaskier wasn’t as bad as she thought. They shared a smile before Jaskier delved deeper into Ciri’s progress and work at school. 


	20. Chapter 20

The last week since Parents’ Evening had been relatively peaceful considering. 

Yennefer had stayed with them for the weekend in the spare room before heading back to Cidaris. Vesemir had even let Geralt swap his weekends shifts to an on-call one. He couldn’t switch off properly and he wouldn’t be paid as much for the time but it did mean he could stay home with Ciri and Yen unless the team got called out to an incident which was bad enough to require all of them, or there were multiple jobs called in at one time. The majority of their days were spent training and maintaining equipment after all. The calls were hard and somedays it felt like they spent more time in the fire engine than the station but if Geralt really broke down his day, most of the day was spent making sure they were on the top of their game, working as a team and at peak physical fitness. 

The only sticky moment had been on Saturday lunchtime when Yen had been out with Istredd. Naturally that had been when Vesemir had called Geralt to assign him to a job. Ciri had spent an hour hanging out in Vesemir’s office whilst Geralt went with Renfri to a block of flats where a small child had locked his parents out of the flat. Luckily there was a window left open and Geralt had climbed up using the fire engine’s ladder and swung though the window. He’d managed to open the door from inside the flat and no permanent damage was done. The parents had been incredibly embarrassed, but Geralt could hardly blame them. Ciri was a handful at the age of seven. This kid’s parents had two children under the age of five, it was like a tornado had hit their house. 

By time he’d returned to the fire station Ciri had been running around the yard with Lambert, practising some of the drills Vesemir liked to run. Geralt watched the pair of them run the drills a few times before yelling a few corrections in his best Vesemir voice. Lambert tripped and fell which made Ciri laugh excitably before she ran over to Geralt. 

She proudly announced that she would be a firefighter when she was older.

Geralt had felt strangely content in that moment. He’d had a similar moment when he was a little bit older than Ciri with Vesemir. Ciri may not be his biological daughter but in the short few months that she had lived with him she had become his family, there was no denying it. She still had Calanthe’s fierce stubbornness, and Pavetta’s endless love for the world, but now there was something of Geralt and his family in her too.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out whilst stirring the pasta sauce idly. He was making a large pot load so he could freeze some to use during the week for lunch and dinner for the pair of them. Yennefer had scolded him for the lack of fresh food in Ciri’s diet, he decided that a fuck load of tomatoes in the pasta sauce counted. There was even some chopped onion and garlic in there for good luck.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling fondly when he noticed the string of emojis that Jaskier had changed his name to in Geralt’s phone. 

_J — Boooooooooooored xxx_

Geralt rolled his eyes. 

_G — I haven’t had my weekly email yet._

They weren’t due out until tomorrow but Geralt knew that Jaskier had a habit of procrastinating and not writing them until the last minute. He smirked as he watched the dots wave at the bottom of the screen. 

_J— That doesn’t help my boredom dearest xxx_

Geralt laughed, he could just picture the adorable pout on Jaskier’s lips.

_G — That’s too bad._

_J — Geralt!_

_— You’re no fun!_

_— We’re breaking up._

Geralt rolled his eyes and dipped a tea spoon into the pasta sauce to taste it. He grimaced. Something wasn’t right, more salt maybe? 

_G — Ok._

He swiped the salt from the counter and added some to the pot whilst he waited patiently as the dots appeared and disappeared at the bottom of the screen. Eventually Jaskier must have given up because his phone started ringing. He laughed as he swiped to pick up the call. 

“Geralt!!” Jaskier whined. 

Geralt looked around. Ciri was still upstairs in her room, he could hear the tell tale sound of things crashing about which meant she was probably trying to spar with her soft toys. 

“My heart is broken, Jask.” He said sarcastically. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.” 

“Darling, dearest of hearts, light of my life.” Jaskier cooed. 

“Hmm?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Jaskier asked sweetly as if they’d never had this discussion before. 

Geralt smirked. “I thought you wanted to break up?”

“Bollocks to that.” Jaskier stated firmly. “I am an artist Geralt! We are prone to exaggeration.”

“Hmm.”

“So?” Jaskier asked quietly.

“For the hundredth time, yes.” Geralt chuckled. 

They had agreed that they were officially dating by the middle of the first week of the Beltane Holidays. Of course, Jaskier had a tendency to fake break up with him whenever there was a minor inconvenience in his life, such as being bored. 

Geralt never believed him. It was hard to believe someone was seriously breaking up with you when they were curled up in your lap and sucking hickeys into your neck. 

“I’ll make it up to you!” Jaskier trilled happily. 

“I’ll add it to the list of IOUs.” Geralt rolled his eyes as he turned down the heat on the sauce. It was starting to boil too ferociously.

“I miss you.” Jaskier added with a sigh.

“Yeah.” Geralt agreed.

It had been difficult since school had started back. They hadn’t been able to see each since the first week of the holidays, not properly. There had been longing glances across the playground and the occasionally brushing of fingers if Geralt bought Jaskier and Triss a coffee on the way to work. The most they had interacted in person was Parents’ Evening and even then they had been on their best behaviour. 

It was hard.

After a week of learning how to be in each other’s space and enjoying the freedom of being able to love each other freely, they were suddenly playing these roles of distant friends, if that. 

He’d wanted to reach under the table to take Jaskier’s hand, just to be able to hold him but they were being watched. He noticed a woman at the back of the room surveying the whole event, not to mention Yennefer had been right there. Jaskier had later told him that the woman had been one Philippa Eilhart, one of the board members and one of the prime threats to Jaskier’s job should she discover their relationship. 

Luckily Yennefer had sworn not to tell anyone, not even Triss or Istredd. They couldn’t risk it, not with the way rumours spread through the staffroom.

“Not long til summer now.” Jaskier sighed wistfully.

“No.” He agreed with a sigh of his own. 

“It’s already half term next week.” Jaskier’s voice audibly brightened up. “I always forget how fast the last term goes. Spring term is fucking long!” 

“Longer days, shorter terms.” Geralt hummed thoughtfully. 

“And then you can be my boyfriend for real!” He heard a faint clap of hands. “Oh my darling, I cannot wait!” 

“DAD!” Ciri bellowed from upstairs and he heard the thundering of feet as she raced from her room.

She would fall at the bottom step running like that. She always did. 

“Shit! I have to go.” Geralt hung up on Jaskier and flew from the kitchen just in time to catch Ciri in his arms. Jaskier would no doubt berate him for it later but he didn’t mind, it was just another excuse to talk to Jaskier. “Cirilla, how many times have I told you not to run on the stairs?” He chided his daughter. 

She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m hungry!” 

“It’s almost ready.” He assured her. “That doesn’t matter though if you break something falling down the stairs.”

“I’ll be more careful next time!” She insisted. 

She wouldn’t be more careful next time. She never was. 

He placed a kiss on top of her head and placed her back on the floor. “Ok, Cub. Can you help set the table?” 

She nodded. 

“Ten minutes, alright? Don’t forget to wash your hands.” 

“Yes, Dad.” Ciri rolled her eyes. 

“Watch the attitude, Ciri.” He warned gently and ruffled her hair.

She stuck her tongue out at him so naturally he stuck his tongue out right back at her. 

She giggled happily and hugged him tightly before running back into the kitchen. He followed her with a fond smile and grabbed the bag of pasta from the cupboard. 

* * *

Jaskier had rung Geralt up later that evening just as Geralt was getting ready for bed. They’d stayed on the phone for hours, eventually they had run out of things to say but it didn’t matter, they stayed on the phone just listening to each other as they did their own things. Geralt occasionally read out passages of his book that he thought was interesting, in turn Jaskier would stop scribbling in his notebook and ask Geralt what he thought of a lyric. 

Eventually Jaskier had begun to snore like a pig on the other end of the line, which Geralt knew meant he was sleeping on his back. He never snored when he slept on his side, well not in the week they’d spent together. 

When Geralt’s alarm went off the next day he was not ready for it. He hit snooze three times before Ciri came bundling into his room already fully dressed. Her hair was still loose around her shoulder and falling in front of her sparkling green eyes. 

“Dad! Get up!” She bounced on the bed and he groaned. 

“Two minutes.” He grumbled.

“I’ll call Mum!” Ciri sang happily. 

“Shit, fuck. I mean. Ciri, no. Not a word to Yen.” Geralt rolled onto his back and Ciri clambered onto his chest to hug him. 

“Does that mean I can’t tell her that you swore?” Ciri teased. 

“Yes!” He sighed and petted Ciri’s long hair. 

“Can I have extra cake for dinner?” She bargained. 

“And breakfast tomorrow.” He agreed, knowing that Eskel had offered to take her to the zoo on Saturday. 

“Yes!” She cheered and leapt off the bed. “Come on! We’re going to be late!” 

“Alright alright. We’re stopping for coffee though.” He muttered.

If he was exhausted then Jaskier surely would be too. The teacher wasn’t good in the mornings on an ordinary day let alone when they’d been up half the night talking. 

He got ready for work in record time and then help Ciri braid her hair before they bundled into the truck ready for school. They barely had time for his coffee stop but the queue was short so Geralt took the gamble and ran in to order three drinks, one black coffee for him, Jaskier’s preferred cinnamon covered caramel latte and a chai latte for Triss. Triss didn’t question her sudden inclusion on Geralt’s coffee run, but he’d agreed with Jaskier that he needed to show he wasn’t just favouring Ciri’s teacher and Triss was the best option as a cover. 

He had to run with Ciri through the schoolyard, the coffee carrier in one hand and Ciri’s hand in the other. He swore under his breath when he noticed that it wasn’t Jaskier in the playground ushering everyone inside. He hurried Ciri along with the other kids and slipped through the doors to see Triss in reception. 

“Geralt?” Triss asked, her hair was loose today, tumbling down past her shoulder in tight dark caramel curls. She was wearing a soft moss green sleeveless dress, and Geralt thought she looked a little like a tree fairy. Triss was undeniably beautiful, no wonder Eskel was so taken by her. 

He passed her the chai latte. “Delivery, got one for Mr Pankratz too. Would you mind?” 

Triss rolled her eyes. “Thanks Geralt. You’re too sweet.”

“Thought it might help get you through the last day before half term.” He lied with a shrug. 

“Thank you.” Triss smiled. “I’ll make sure he gets it. He looked exhausted this morning, you must be psychic.”

Geralt hummed nonchalantly. 

“I’m late. See you around Triss.” Geralt grunted before turning back towards the playground. 

“Say hi to Esk for me!” She called after him. 

He laughed softly. “I will.”

Eskel blushed brighter than the sun when Geralt passed on the message which delighted the wolf pack. Eskel and Triss’s budding romance was the current hot topic of conversation in the fire station which Geralt was relieved by, it meant that there were less eyes and him and Jask, and the less attention they had the better. At least until the school broke up for summer. 

Another popular topic was the way Lambert had started insisting on joining the cats whenever they were called up to help or when they came in for training days, in particular he enjoyed to pair up with Aiden, a dashing blond firefighter and one of the more experienced on-call fighters. Aiden was looking to move to a full-time position, he’d quit his day job as an engineer a few months ago and was looking for a change. 

Geralt frowned.

How the fuck did he know all that?

He groaned when he realised that it was like a repeat of when Ciri had just started school and all his team mates knew everything about Jaskier. 

Fuck.

He should probably buy them all a round of drinks to make up for it. 

“Geralt!” Vesemir snapped. “Quit your dawdling and get up the ladder, do you want the dummy to burn to death?”

He swore and checked his breathing apparatus before clambering up the ladder double time to make up for his daydreaming. The training building was filled with fake smoke to simulate a real fire so it was hard to see. He’d wasted too much time on the ground and the building was almost completely full of smoke. 

He cursed and squinted around the room until he located the dummy. 

He made a dash, minding the gaps in the floor and ducking under low obstacles. If he hadn’t run through this building countless times already he probably would have hit his head due to the bad visibility. He pulled the dummy up over his shoulder and ran back for the window. 

But he was too late. Vesemir’s voice crackled in his ear through the radio. “Death by smoke inhalation, White Wolf. What will you tell their family?”

He cursed and made his way back down the ladder. 

When his feet touched the ground with a heavy thud he found Lambert and smirking at him. He had his helmet under his arm and braces around his knees. 

“Maybe next time we should call the dummy Jaskier.” Lambert teased. 

Geralt threw the dummy at Lambert and pulled off his own helmet and mask. “I’ve got a better idea, let’s call him Aiden and send Lambert in.”

“Fuck off.” Lambert growled and lowered into a fighting stance. Geralt mirrored him, they hadn’t sparred in a while and he was looking forward to showing the younger man who was boss. 

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, wolf.” Geralt challenged. 

“Oh I can finish it!” 

Lambert lunged forward and Geralt grinned. He stepped to the side and Lambert went flying to the ground. Lambert made that mistake every time, always too eager, too aggressive. Geralt pulled off his jacket and dumped it on the ground next to his helmet. It was too heavy to spar in, especially when Lambert wasn’t equally laden. 

Lambert had pulled himself off the ground ready for a second attack by the time Geralt was finished. He jumped onto Geralt’s back and wrapped his arms around his neck. Geralt growled as he felt the pressure on his throat. It wasn’t enough to cut off his air supply, this was a friendly spar after all, but it was enough to surprise him. 

“Get off!” He gasped and tried to shake Lambert off. “You’ve spent too much time with the cats.” He grumbled. 

“It’s effective though.” Lambert laughed but his glee was short-lived as Geralt threw him to the ground. Lambert cursed as he rolled to break his fall. 

“Not as much as you think.” Geralt shot back.

They tussled back and forth for a few more minutes before Geralt managed to pin Lambert to the floor. The prick refused to yield though and Geralt rolled his eyes as he counted down in his head, waiting for the inevitable holler. 

“ENOUGH!” Vesemir roared and they broke apart. 

“Sorry Chief.” Geralt smirked and reached out to help pull Lambert up off the floor. 

“Sorry Chief.” Lambert echoed as he dusted off his trousers. 

“If you want to spar, use the gym. I don’t want any injuries because you decided to wrestle on tarmac. I thought I’d trained you better than that.” Vesemir grumbled. “Geralt you’re on the lunch run. Lambert, laundry.” 

Lambert yelled. “Oi! How come he gets lunch and I get laundry!” 

Vesemir raised an eyebrow at Lambert and crossed his arms. “Because, wolf, you should have yielded but you are a stubborn ass. It’s your turn up the ladder. Eskel’s finished with the reset. Get your gear on and I’ll start the clock. Hopefully Aiden will have better luck than Jaskier.” 

“Vesemir.” Geralt groaned with his head in his hands. 

“Should name the fucking dummy Triss and see how my idiot brother likes it.” Lambert grumbled pulling on his jacket and buckling his helmet under his chin. 

“Enough of your moaning, wolf.” Vesemir snapped. “Are you ready?”

Lambert wasn’t ready.

Vesemir didn’t care.

“Go!” He clicked the stopwatch and Geralt heard the whirring of the smoke machine click on. 

“Fuck!” Lambert shouted and lunged for the ladder. 

* * *

Geralt’s lunch break was cut short. The alarms began to ring out in the station and the wolf pack mobilised with a collective groan. It was always just when they started lunch. Sandwiches were thrown haphazardly back into the fridge and then ran to find out what the job was and who was going.

Vesemir was waiting for them in the few minutes it took for them to get their gear on. His face was sombre which was never a good start to briefing. 

“Wild fire out on the heaths.” He grumbled passing Geralt the print out of the details. “The farmland is nearby, if that lights up then it will have devastating results for everyone. Get out fast. All of you. It’s going to be a long evening, the bears will meet you there at the end of your shift and I’ve already called the cats for back up.” 

“Yes, Chief.” They chorussed. 

“Renfri with me in one engine. Lambert and Eskel, take the other one.” Geralt barked and they were off. 

They saw the smoke from a distant and Geralt swore. The pillars of thick black smoke billowing into the sky was never a good sign. 

“That’s a lot of smoke.” Renfri murmured as they pulled into the road nearest the fire. 

The police were already there, cordoning off the area to keep members of public away from the fire. It always astounded Geralt how many people ran straight to the barrier to try and catch a glimpse of the raging fire. He wondered how many of them would run into the flames if the tape wasn’t there to stop them. 

It was a long and tiring shift battling the flames in the heathland. He was dripping with sweat underneath his suit by the time the bears turned up. Both teams worked together for about half an hour as they managed the handover. The cats and the wolves both limped away from the fire as dusk was settling over Posada. 

He pulled his helmet off as they approached the cars that the bears had arrived in. 

“Geralt!” He heard a familiar voice and he turned around so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. 

Jaskier was standing by the tape with a paper bag in one hand and Geralt’s thermos in another. Geralt had forgotten that he’d given it to the teacher way back in October during their trip to the school. 

“Ger-Bear?” Renfri asked with a smirk. 

“You go. I’ll be alright.” He nodded and walked over to Jaskier. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Lambert cackled as he slung his arm around Aiden and headed to the cars. 

Geralt rolled his eyes and flipped Lambert off. He couldn’t do much else in front of the watching public and journalists. 

“Jaskier.” He greeted the teacher with a weary smile. “What are you doing here?” 

Jaskier passed him the paper bag and Geralt peered inside. There was a ham and cheese pastry sat at the bottom of the bag. He looked back at Jaskier in shock. The man’s eyes were sparkling blue in the moonlight, he looked beautiful like he was the spirit of the moon that had chosen to walk the Continent. 

Jaskier shrugged. “I saw the news. They said you’d been on the scene since lunchtime. I thought you might be hungry, oh and here.” Jaskier passed the thermos. “I’ve been meaning to give this back.” He added sheepishly. 

“Bit late for coffee.” Geralt noted. 

Jaskier laughed melodically. “Which is why it’s not coffee.” He tossed his fringe out of his eyes with a flick of his head. “Go on, have a taste.” 

Geralt flicked the lid and sniffed the drink. “Chamomile?” He asked.

Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Oh I forgot about your freakish sense of smell.” 

Geralt scoffed. “You didn’t have to do this.” 

Jaskier squeezed his shoulder. “I wanted to. I was worried about you.”

Geralt smiled fondly at his boyfriend before reaching into the bag and splitting the pastry in half. He handed half to Jaskier who tried to protest. 

“Oh no.” He waved his hands and pushed Geralt’s offering back at him. “I bought that for you.”

“You poison it?” Geralt asked with a tired laugh. 

Jaskier gaped and grasped his chest with his hand. “Geralt, how dare you insinuate such a thing?” 

“How long have you been waiting for me, Jask?” Geralt raised an eyebrow at the brunet who shuffled awkwardly under his gaze. 

“An hour, maybe two but that’s not the point!” Jaskier pouted. 

Geralt pushed half the pastry into Jaskier’s hands, enjoying the excuse to be close to him again. “Eat, Jaskier.” He insisted. 

Jaskier huffed a sigh but took the pastry. “You drive a hard bargain, Geralt.” He noted around mouthfuls of pastry. The crumbs fell over his bright red coat and Geralt rolled his eyes, Jaskier was a messier eater than Ciri. 

Geralt laughed. “You have a lift home?”

Jaskier shook his head and bit his lip, looking far too guilty as Geralt watched his own lift drive away behind Jaskier. “I got the bus.”

Geralt sighed heavily. “You could have said something before I let them leave without me.”

“Hey now!” Jaskier pouted. “I never offered you a lift home.”

“No, you just lured me over with food and tea.” Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah well, couldn’t exactly lure you over with kisses and cuddles now could I.” Jaskier muttered almost unintelligibly under his breath.

Geralt was barely able to resist pulling Jaskier into a hug and resting his chin on his head but there were too many people. It probably looked strange enough if anyone here recognised them from the school. Not many teachers were friends with the parents, but Geralt calmed himself in the knowledge that Jaskier’s friendship group and his were starting to overlap pretty heavily. Geralt was friends with Yennefer, Yennefer was friends with Triss and Is, Jaskier was friends with Triss, Triss was dating Eskel and Eskel obviously worked with Geralt. There was no denying that Jaskier would now be part of his life regardless of how he felt about the teacher. 

“Add them to the IOU.” Geralt murmured back. 

Jaskier laughed and bumped his shoulder against Geralt’s. “Wonderful plan, my dear.”

“I’ll call Vesemir. See if I can get us a lift.” Geralt suggested. 

“He wouldn’t mind?” Jaskier asked with a lick of his lips. 

Geralt huffed a laugh. “I never said that but I don’t think the bus runs this late.”

“I could call a taxi?” Jaskier suggested with a twinkle in his eyes and he squeezed Geralt’s arm gently. “I got you stuck here, and I was going to call one anyway so we might as well share?”

Geralt hummed in agreement and decided it was a good time to eat his half of the pastry. His stomach rumbled appreciatively at the first bite. He hadn’t realised how fucking hungry he’d been. Maybe Jaskier was right in trying to refuse his half. He scoffed down the pastry in a couple of bites. It was cold now but the cheese had definitely been melted at some point it tasted like heaven. He’d only managed to eat a couple of energy bars since breakfast after their lunch had been interrupted by the alarms. 

Jaskier noticed Geralt’s delight with a smirk and pulled out a second screwed up bag from his pockets. “See I knew it!” He laughed. “Eat up, White Wolf.” 

Inside the second bag was a very squished bacon and lettuce roll, homemade by the looks of it. 

“Has this been in your pocket the whole time?” Geralt asked as he sniffed the roll. It didn’t smell funny which was a good sign. 

“Nope!” Jaskier grinned. “I just knew you would try to be chivalrous so I hid this when I saw you coming over.” 

Geralt wanted to kiss him.

Instead he munched happily on the extra food as Jaskier set about calling them a taxi back into town. 

Geralt cleared his throat when he was done eating to get the teacher’s attention. They were standing side by side watching the road but not quite touching and he longed to reach across and take Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier, who had been chattering about his day at school, went silent and looked back at him.

Geralt scowled as he tried to find away to put his feelings into words that Jaskier, and only Jaskier would understand, but he didn’t have Jaskier’s poetic talent and skill with words. 

He sighed. “Three things.” He mumbled. “You, Ciri, my family.” 

Jaskier gasped quietly and brushed their fingers together for barely a second. “Oh dear heart, I know.” 

Geralt smiled fondly as he looked up at the stars. It had been a long and exhausting shift but suddenly the world seemed to be alright. 


	21. Chapter 21

Jaskier sang giddily as he practically skipped towards his classroom. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, the birds were singing and he was in love. He simply couldn’t be happier. Half term had been blissful. He’d spent the end of the week tucked up in the studio with Priscilla recording a few songs for a new album. If he’d used fire based metaphors liberally then who could really blame him? He had a hot fireman boyfriend and it was so very nearly the summer holidays. Just a few weeks left. Melitele bless the summer term. 

“Morning, Jaskier.” Triss greeted him with a wave. 

She was wearing a pale blue summer dress with roses embroidered into the fabric. He envied her slightly. His shirt was probably the thinnest one he owned, that wasn’t see through, and luckily Tissaia allowed them to wear short sleeves. Shorts, however, were another matter. Apparently shorts were unprofessional and they had to wear trousers. He’d considered turning up in a dress, he had a lovely white chiffon dress that he’d stolen from Pris back when they were still dating and never wanted to give back. Unfortunately, he was already walking the wire with his more liberal teaching views and he was almost positive he wouldn’t last the day if he turned up wearing a dress. So he was in his long trousers, pale yellow shirt and a dark red tie. He fucking hated wearing a tie, but he was determined to be on his best behaviour until the end of term. 

“Good morning, Triss!” He beamed at his friend and gave a little bow, his fringe flopping in front of his eyes. 

Triss laughed, the freckles on her skin seemed to have doubled over the week off. She must have been enjoying the sun. She looked relaxed, the tension from her shoulders was gone and her soft brown eyes were practically twinkling. “You seem happy?” She asked as she ran a hand through her thick curls. 

Jaskier tilted his head as he thought back on his own half term. The benefit of having Yennefer in the know was that she’d been able to cover for them and managed to trick Lambert into babysitting Ciri over one lunch time whilst Geralt snuck out to see Jaskier. It hadn’t been for very long but they’d made pancakes with bacon and maple syrup for lunch, which led to some very sticky sweet kisses. Geralt had returned to Ciri with flour over his shirt and a set of terrible excuses. Yennefer hadn’t been impressed when Geralt blamed the mess on her. Ciri had been equally unimpressed when she’d learnt that Geralt had gone for lunch with ‘Yennefer’ without inviting his daughter along. 

Jaskier didn’t envy Geralt. Living alone meant that Jaskier didn’t have to make such excuses and it was his job that was causing them such a fuss. He would have to make it up to his boyfriend in the summer when the both had more time. 

He grinned soppily and sighed. “Yeah.”

Triss cackled. “Oooh I know that look!” She rested her chin on her hands. “You, Mr Pankratz, are in love!”

Jaskier blanched. “What?!”

“The idiotic smiles and the simpering sighs. It’s like with Geralt all over again!” Triss raised an eyebrow at him. 

Jaskier laughed nervously. “No, no. Absolutely not. Not in love. I… got a new instrument!” 

Triss just looked at him, clearly not impressed. 

“A trumpet!” He announced. “A very beautiful instrument, it’s silver plated. Oh and you should hear the sound it makes, so rich.”

Triss giggled. “Right, So does this silver plated trumpet have a name? Or do you just like to blow it?”

“Triss Merigold!” He gaped.

She had a point but in his defence he really had bought a new trumpet. He wasn’t sure when he was going to get round to learning how to play but it had just looked so sad and lonely in the shop. The silver varieties really did produce the most beautiful sounds, he’d always meant to give the brass section a go, but he’d gotten hooked on stringed instruments and keyboards. The flute was alright, but the trumpet was loud and bold and unafraid. 

Not to mention that the way the light had bounced off the silver plated instrument had reminded him of Geralt’s hair.

Triss didn’t need to know that. 

“What ever happened between you and Geralt?” Triss asked more quietly. 

Jaskier sighed and hopped up to sit on her desk, ignoring her protests as the desk pen was knocked into her lap. 

It was time to act. 

He owed her at least some explanation after he’d sobbed all over her. He sighed again, more dramatically this time, trying to set the scene. 

“Well, my dear Ms Merigold.” He tossed his hair from his eyes. “It was a slightly chilly autumn day, last September if memory serves me well.”

“Jaskier, get to the point” Triss prodded his arm. “And off my desk!”

“I fell in love, like a star falls through the sky. It was magical and beautiful, burning ever so brightly.” He brushed his hand in the air in front of him as he pictured the light of the star streaking across the sky. “But just like a falling star, it flashed before my eyes and faded back into the darkness before I could even find the words to describe the sheer perfection of its beauty, nay its resplendence.”

Triss groaned and shoved him hard so he fell off the desk, he barely managed to keep on his feet as he stumbled across the floor. 

“Oi!” He spluttered. “You asked!” 

“You could have just said you’ve moved on.” Triss pointed out. 

Jaskier winked. “Oh well, now where’s the fun in that, my darling?” 

Triss smiled sadly. “It’s a shame.” 

Jaskier put a hand on his hips. “And why is that?” He asked hiding his glee, he felt a pang of guilt about deceiving his friend but it was for the best. 

Triss shrugged. “I just thought you could have been good together. Esk thought so too.”

“Esk?” Jaskier teased. 

Triss tried to hide her smile and glared at him. “Eskel, we’ve been hanging out.”

“Ooh, hanging out.” Jaskier gave her a cheeky smily.

Triss threw a pen at him and he had to duck out of the way. “Get out of here, Jask.” She snapped but he could see the barely concealed laughter in her eyes. 

“I’m filing a grievance!” He called out as he picked up her pen and pocketed it. Pens were like gold dust in this place. He’d never managed to keep one for more than a week before it got lost, or more likely stolen.

“No!” She called after him. “Give that back!” 

He spun back round with wide arms and a grin on his face. “Give what back?” He cackled. 

“Jaskier!” Triss shouted. 

“Farewell, my dear!” He giggled as he scarpered off towards his classroom. 

* * *

His classroom had been fucking hot all day and he was starting to wonder what he liked about summer so much. The kids couldn’t concentrate and quite frankly neither could he. He was ashamed to admit that his lesson plan had flown out the window, along with his sanity, and just before lunch he’d wheeled in the TV set to put on some cartoon about words and sentences that was probably better suited to a year 3 class but it was just hot and the children enjoyed the cartoons. It had taken a while for them to work out how to get the subtitles to work on the old video cassette but the kids kept shouting out ideas until they found the right button. 

He’d even let Filavandrel and his class in on his masterful plan. They had both sat at the back the classroom fanning themselves with a text book. Filavandrel was a peculiar person. Not the sort of man Jaskier would have pegged for a primary school teacher, but then Valdo Marx hadn’t been either. Filavandrel was a regal fellow, it was best description Jaskier had, slightly haughty with a definite superiority complex and a disdain for his fellow teachers. The only person that he had seen Filavandrel talking to during break times was Francesca Findabair, who taught the Daisies, one of the year four classes. 

Still Jaskier wasn’t one to judge. Filavandrel was at least tolerant towards him, which is more than could be said for some of the other teachers. He’d been downright hostile towards some of the staff.

He rolled the TV set back down the corridors to the storage room. His kids were out on lunch, hopefully staying in the shade. He felt sorry for who ever was on playground duty this week. He was more than happy to stay inside in the scolding heat. 

By the time he’d made it to the staffroom there weren’t any seats left so happily plopped himself on the carpet with a contented sigh and closed his eyes. The ground wasn’t exactly a fluffy cloud but he’d been on his feet most of the morning trying to keep his Buttercups focussed and he was tired. 

He felt the shadow creep over him as the staffroom fell silent. He opened his eyes and looked up to find Tissaia de Vries staring down at him. Even in the hot weather she was wearing a full length skirt and long sleeved blouse. He didn’t know how she was coping. 

“Mr Pankratz, my office, now.” She said sharply. There was a sadness in her eyes that he couldn’t place, and she’d called him Mr Pankratz rather than Jaskier. 

Cock.

He scrambled to his feet and brushed down his trousers. He chewed his lip anxiously as she left the room. “Fucking cock balls.” He moaned and shuffled his weight, flexing his fingers and digging his nails into his palms.

“What did you do?” Triss asked quietly. 

An excellent question, hopefully it was his spontaneous video lesson, but he’d checked and no one else had the TV booked out for that period! Perhaps it was another parent complaining that he’d dared to mention that anything other than heteronormative lives existed. He frowned, had Tissaia been psychic and known that he’d almost worn his dress to work?

Fuck!

The only other thing it could be.

No.

They’d been careful.

He felt sick. “I don’t know.” He stammered. “I’ll. Umm. I’ll see you later I guess.” 

The walk towards Tissaia’s office was the longest walk of his life. He had to stop twice to lean up against the wall to catch his breath. He almost ran to the toilet once to throw up but managed to keep his lunch down, just about. He stood outside her office feeling about two feet tall, and five years old again. The last time he had felt so small and helpless was standing outside of his father’s office after he’d come out to them over dinner. 

That had been his last dinner at his parent’s house. 

“Mr Pankratz, please stop hovering and come in.” Tissaia called through the door. 

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath before plastering a smile on his face, hoping he could charm his way out of this one, or maybe he could set the school on fire and Geralt could come and rescue him? No. That was a terrible idea. 

His heart pounded in his chest as he walked into the office. Not only was Tissaia there, but Philippa Eilhart was perched at her shoulder looking like a fierce warrior who was about to charge into battle.

“Ah. Ms Eilhart!” He stammered. “You are looking radiant as always.” 

“Sit down, Mr Pankratz.” Philippa said in lieu of a greeting. 

He dropped down into the sit opposite Tissaia’s desk. “And Tissaia can I just say, I love what you’ve done with the office.” 

“Jaskier.” Tissaia sighed with a shake of her head. 

“Right. Ok then.” He mumbled and smiled sheepishly up at the two women, feeling a little like one of his kids. “Can I ask why I’m here then?”

“We would tell you if you just stop talking.” Philippa answered sharply. 

Tissaia’s face was a mask of indifference. Jaskier couldn’t work out what the hell was going on and he certainly would not want to play gwent against the headmistress. She just gave nothing away. Philippa on the other hand was a brewing storm, a blizzard of ice. 

Jaskier was fucking terrified. 

“We should probably start by saying what an asset you’ve been to the school, Jaskier.” Tissaia started calmly. “Whilst your teaching methods have been… controversial at times, it’s no secret how much the children adore you, and they always leave your class as the best versions of themselves.”

Jaskier beamed at the compliment, that was better than he’d been expecting. Perhaps he’d read the whole situation wrong. “Thank you, I really do try to understand their individual needs and make sure I’m teaching a wide and diverse syllabus. I think the music helps, the government really doesn’t understand the importance of the arts in helping to develop creativity and problem solving skills, not to mention communication skills and learning that it’s alright to have hobbies for the fun of it. Music really just brings people together, and I think—”

“Mr Pankratz!” Philippa snapped before regaining her composure. “That’s quite enough about what you think. Here’s what I think.”

“Right, yeah. Well…” Jaskier mumbled. 

“What I think” She said ignoring him “is that I’ve had several reports about the nature of your relationship with Mr Geralt Rivia.”

Jaskier felt as if his heart had stopped in his chest. 

“Ciri’s father?” He asked quietly. 

“One and the same.” Philippa raised an eyebrow at him. “The allegations, Mr Pankratz, are that you have been engaging in some vastly inappropriate conversations with another member of staff about Geralt’s looks.”

“That’s not a crime!” Jaskier protested. 

“Conversations which if they’d been about a female would have reported as sexist and misogynistic, and highly inappropriate, especially regarding a parent of a child that is in your class.” Philippa stepped forward and peered at him intensely. Her eyes were jet black and he felt like he was staring into a blackhole. Around her neck was a long silver chain, a heavy owl pendant with bright yellow eyes gazed back at him. 

He opened his mouth to defend himself but he had no excuses. She was right. He’d been careless at the beginning, too stunned by Geralt’s beauty to know how to keep his mouth shut.

“What’s more is that there have been allegations that because of your infatuation with Mr Rivia, you have been treating Ciri more favourably in class.” Philippa added. 

“That’s not true!” Jaskier cried. “How the fuck have I been treating her any differently to any of the others?”

“Watch your language, Jaskier.” Tissaia chided sharply. 

“I demand to know!” He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. “I deserve to know.”

“You spent longer speaking with Mr Rivia at parents’ evening in October, which incidentally I saw for myself at the beginning of term. You have met with Mr Rivia on multiple occasions outside of school.” Philippa smirked. 

“Who told you that?” Jaskier asked incredulously. His fingers began to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt, he so sorely wished that he had a notebook or his guitar. He needed to do something! Anything. He settled for shuffling his weight, hopping from one foot to the other. 

“I’m afraid we can’t disclose that, Jaskier.” Tissaia said softly. 

At least she had the decency to look guilty at the accusations. Ms Eilhart seemed to be delighting in his suffering. 

“When did these alleged meetings occur?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Mostly between January and March. Although you were also seen getting a taxi with Mr Rivia at the wildfire the other day.” Philippa stared at him without blinking, a smile dancing on her lips. 

Jaskier spun round and flung his arms in the air. 

“Is someone stalking me?” He yelled. “What? Do you want a breakdown of every time I’ve seen Geralt outside of school and why? Is that it?” 

“Jaskier, calm down!” Tissaia snapped without raising her voice. 

“Ok, I’ll give you a breakdown!” He put one hand on his hip and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Jaskier.” Tissaia sighed. 

“No. no. If I’m to be accused, let’s make sure the facts are quite clear.” 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice told him to shut his fucking mouth for once in his life. 

He didn’t listen. 

“Yes. I have seen Geralt outside of school. Yes, I find him attractive. That is not something I can control and I won’t apologise for it either, but I will admit that I have said some things that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for that. I started seeing Geralt outside of school after parents’ evening at the end of October, so you can correct that on your little list of all my wrong doings. We ran out of time on parents’ evening, this is not me favouring Ciri. Ciri is just more complicated than my other students. On the surface she appears to be coping very well with her trauma but she’s young and I am worried that she’s not processed it properly.”

“So you admit to spending more time on her.” Philippa’s smile made his toes curl, and not in a good way. 

“Because her needs require more time. This is no different to me spending my weekends learning sign language because Dara’s needs require it!” Jaskier pointed out. “Geralt had concerns and quite frankly so did I. Ciri expressed an interest in learning to play the guitar, we both thought it would be a good way for her to work through some of the things that might have been bothering her. We talked about different instruments and I suggested a few good teachers.”

“You were seen out drinking with Geralt’s colleagues.” Philippa noted, writing something down in her notebook. 

“Lambert is a fan of my band. Geralt mentioned it and I reached out to Lambert to say thank you. My band is not very well known so it was nice to meet a fan.” Jaskier put his other hand on his hips. “They are good people. We became friends, or am I not allowed to make friends outside of school now?”

“These gentlemen are people that Ciri considers to be family. So I’m afraid not.” Philippa said cooly. 

Jaskier scoffed. “Istredd is dating Yennefer, not to mention half the staff are friends with Yennefer. Triss is dating Eskel, Ciri’s uncle. Why am I not allowed to be friends with my colleague’s partners just because Ciri is in my class?” 

Philippa narrowed her eyes at him, but Tissaia looked away with a small smile. 

Point to Jaskier! 

Ha!

“That is different.” Philippa insisted. 

“It is not!” He countered firmly. “And just for the record I saw the news about the wildfire. I was curious and I was not the only person there. There were dozens of people watching the firefighters. I wanted to make sure my friends, plural, were ok. Geralt came over when he saw me, the others left without him. It was cheaper to share a taxi back to town.” 

“It was inappropriate.” Philippa said sharply, her voice was brimming with cool anger. 

Jaskier could almost feel the sparks in the air as she pinned him down with an icy stare. 

“Please don’t suspend me.” He pleaded. “Not now, I can’t leave my kids now.” 

Philippa appraised him with eyes, not dissimilar to a shark hunting its prey. 

“Please.” He repeated as he dropped back down into his seat. “I will stay away from Geralt. Just, please let me finish the term.” 

Philippa glanced at Tissaia. “And what do you suggest, headmistress?” 

Tissaia smiled at him with an almost maternal fondness. “Jaskier is one of the best primary school teachers this school has ever had. Not only is he great with the children, but he is committed to bringing diversity and equality to the school. Suspending him now would do more harm than good.”

“And what would I say to those who claim his objectification of Mr Rivia is no better than the comments made by those who have been suspended?” Philippa asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“I would say that Jaskier was foolish but he only ever wears his heart on his sleeve. I believe, whilst ill-judged, he only said those things out of a deep fondness and respect for Mr Rivia. That being said, it would not be right for there to be no reprimand for his, or Triss’s behaviour at the start of term.” Tissaia’s words were calculated and Jaskier almost fell out of his chair in relief. 

She was defending him. 

Philippa nodded. “Very well. Jaskier, I will be writing to you with a formal decision regarding any action that the school board will be taking. You will have an opportunity to challenge this should you think it’s unfair. In the meantime please cease any contact you have with Geralt and Ciri’s family outside of school. Is that understood?”

Jaskier gaped. 

He’d gotten away with it.

Sort of.

“Umm, actually I do have a couple of questions?” He raised his hand awkwardly. 

Philippa rolled her eyes. “Go on, make it quick.”

“What if Triss, or Istredd invite me out to the pub and Eskel and the others are there?” He asked, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers on the desk in front of him. 

“Then you find a way to politely decline.” Philippa answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“And what about when term ends?” Jaskier asked, desperately trying to keep his voice from wavering. 

“Why would that change anything?” Philippa asked, her dark eyes piercing into his soul. 

“Oh well, I wouldn’t be Ciri’s teacher? I could… be friends with them again?” He tried a smile but his stomach was twisting and he could taste bile in the back of his throat.

Philippa laughed darkly. “Tread carefully, Mr Pankratz. You’re dismissed.” 

“Oh hey, no, but you haven’t answered—”

“Out. Now.” Philippa cut him off. 

“But that’s not fair!” He protested. 

“Jaskier.” Tissaia’s eyes were warning him to shut up but once more he didn’t listen. 

“This fucking bullshit.” He snapped as he kicked his chair out from underneath him. “Bollocks to the lot of it.”

He stormed from the room in a fury. 

It wasn’t fucking fair. 

He considered going home sick. He was too hot, too tired and bloody fuming, but his kids. They needed him. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. He still had another ten minutes of break time left. He hit the speed dial, praying that Geralt would answer. 

It rang twice before he heard Geralt’s voice hum through phone. Jaskier finally felt as if he could breathe again. He looked behind him at Tissaia’s office and then trotted off towards his classroom as he spoke. 

“Dear heart?” He asked, his voice shaking more than he would like. 

“Hmm?” Geralt answered ever so eloquently. 

“There’s been a slight problem.” He sighed quietly. 

“Ciri?”

Jaskier shook his head. “No. Not her.”

“Spit it out.” Geralt grumbled. 

“Alright, moody.” Jaskier rolled his eyes. 

“Sorry. Long shift.” Geralt sighed. 

“Tell me about it.” Jaskier agreed. “Tissaia asked to speak to me, with Philippa Eilhart.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yup.” Jaskier agreed. 

“Is everything alright?” Geralt asked quietly. 

Jaskier thought about it. “I don’t know, I really don’t know.” 

“I’ll ask Renfri if she can look after Ciri tonight after I’ve put her to bed.” Geralt suggested. “I can come over.”

“Does she know?” Jaskier frowned. 

“She guessed.”

“Oh.” Jaskier sighed. “Right.”

“Jask?” Geralt whispered. 

“No. It’s alright. I’m fine, dear heart.” Jaskier lied, but he’d promised Tissaia and Philippa that he would stay away from Geralt until the end of term. He had to at least try. “I’ll see you once term is over.”

“No.” Geralt groaned.

“Love, please” Jaskier whined. “Don’t be difficult.”

“Are we ok?” Geralt asked in hushed tones. 

Are you breaking up with me?

That was the real question. 

“Of course we are, three things?” Jaskier asked gently.

“Chocolate chip pancakes, cornflowers, chamomile tea.” Geralt answered without missing a beat. 

Jaskier let the hidden meaning behind those words wash over him, let them clear away his doubts and fears. 

“I adore my Buttercups, my darling, you know that.” He answered with a sigh. “I’m just not sure whether teaching is what pleases me anymore, not if I can’t have you.”

“Jaskier” Geralt growled. 

“Summer, my dear. If we can’t be free then, well… I always did want to become a musician.” His heart clenched in his chest. 

“Three things.” Geralt stated firmly. 

Jaskier froze. 

Geralt had never asked him that before. 

He couldn’t find the words.

How could he choose just three things that made him happy? 

“Not sure I can beat chocolate chip pancakes.” He teased. 

Geralt hummed but didn’t answer. 

Jaskier took a deep breath. “The way the moonlight shines on a river and changes the world into one of magic and power and intrigue, the golden eyes of a wolf as it watches its cub play in the woods, the warmth of being known and loved by someone I adore.” 

Geralt was silent on the other end of the line.

Jaskier laughed nervously. “So umm. There’s that.” 

“When is the end of term?” Geralt asked.

“Not soon enough.” Jaskier replied with a dramatic sigh. 

“Hmm. IOU.” Geralt mumbled. “Fuck, I need to go.” 

Jaskier smirked. He really should have kept a tally of all the kisses that Geralt now owed him, and vice versa. 

“Stay safe, my darling.” He replied just as Geralt hung up. 

He sighed as he reached his classroom, his eyes drifting over the paper buttercups that covered his door. 

What made him happy?

What pleased him…

He wasn’t lying when he told Geralt that he wasn’t sure anymore, but was he really going to give up his career for a relationship that probably wouldn’t even last?

He pushed open the door and then turned to lean on it, sliding to the floor with a long groan. 

It was going to be a long three weeks before the summer holidays.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: I don't know if this is one but this chapter starts with a dream sequence and Geralt gets a bit disorientated?

Geralt’s alarm startled him to consciousness, which was unusual. He was usually dozing half awake in the few minutes before the damned thing started beeping at him. This morning he was dead asleep. 

It was only when he was standing up and brushing his teeth that he heard a grumble from his bedroom. He scowled at his reflection in the mirror, and tried to wipe it with his flannel. The glass was all steamed up. He looked down at his body and remembered he’d already showered. The steam was from the shower. He finished up with his teeth and went to investigate the noise from his bedroom, running a towel through his hair. 

He chuckled when he saw the mess of his bedsheet. 

Jaskier. 

The teacher was sprawled out like starfish across the whole bed, the sheets barely covering his naked body. 

Of course the noise was Jaskier. He always grumbled when Geralt left the bed whilst the he was still asleep. Geralt sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed Jaskier’s fringe from his eyes and leant down to kiss his hair. 

Jaskier’s vibrant eyes flashed open, glowing in the dimly lit room. “Geralt?” 

“Morning, Jask.” Geralt swatted Jaskier’s bare ass and got up to get dressed. 

“Oi, at least kiss me properly!” Jaskier rolled onto his side and pouted at Geralt, his eyes watching every movement as Geralt pulled on his uniform. 

Geralt rolled his eyes and stalked across the room, he was on top of Jaskier is less than a heart beat, pressing their lips together. Jaskier moaned underneath him and snaked his arms around Geralt’s neck, pulling them closer. Geralt moved to kiss and suck at Jaskier’s neck before jumping up with a start. 

“Shit, sorry,” he growled. 

Jaskier stared up at him, red faced and wide-eyed, looking utterly debauched. “Whatever for, dear heart?” He laughed. 

His laughter was like music chiming, echoing around the room. 

Geralt frowned. “You can’t go to school with hickeys.” 

Jaskier sat up and cupped his cheek. “But, dear heart, it’s summer.”

Geralt shook his head. “No it’s not. Fuck, Jask what are you doing here? Philippa?”

“It’s summer, we’re free, Geralt.” Jaskier insisted. His voice was almost hypnotic and Geralt so wanted to believe him. 

“No. I have to take Ciri to school. You can’t be here, Jask.” Geralt pressed his back against the wall and covered his ears. 

Jaskier’s eyes were spilling over with tears. “G-Geralt?” 

Geralt shook his head. “You’ll lose your job, Jaskier. Ciri, I can’t do that to Ciri.” 

Jaskier tears were now pouring down his face. Geralt realised with a start that the floor was beginning to flood. 

“Fuck!” He ran to the door to let the water out but it wouldn’t open.

“Geralt, don’t leave me!” Jaskier cried. “It’s summer, love.”

“No!” Geralt shouted. 

“Geralt, please!” 

“Dad!” Ciri called. 

No. Ciri. She couldn’t be here. She couldn’t see. 

“Dad!” Ciri screamed and Geralt gasped for breath as he sat up in bed. 

The sun was shining through the curtains and Ciri was bouncing on the bed next to him, watching him with alert emerald green eyes. 

She tilted her head. “Dad?”

Geralt groaned and pulled his daughter into a hug, she squealed but allowed her to be pulled forward. “Hey, cub.”

“Were you having a nightmare?” She mumbled against his chest. 

Geralt grunted. “Yeah.”

She pulled back and stared back at him, her nose was all scrunched up and she was pouting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Geralt shook his head. “Not this time, princess.”

Ciri narrowed her eyes at him and then leapt from the bed. “Fine, but you have to tell Roach! Deal?”

Geralt scowled. “Wait, what day is it?” 

“Saturday!” Ciri announced proudly. “You promised we could go to see Roach together!” 

Geralt wanted to believe her but his dream hadn’t quite left him yet. He pulled his phone from the charging cable and looked at the date. “Huh. Saturday,” he mused. 

Ciri put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t believe me!” 

Geralt tilted his head and smiled sheepishly at his daughter. “It was just the dream, I promise.”

“Like when I thought the car was going to eat you?” Ciri asked. “Even though that’s silly.”

Geralt nodded. “Yeah, the dream made it feel real though.”

“Yeah.” She sniffed and rubbed her nose. “I didn’t like that dream very much.”

Geralt stood and and pulled her into another hug. He kissed the top of her hair. It was ratty and desperately needed a brush. “Hmm. I didn’t like my dream very much either.”

“Are you ok?” She asked quietly. 

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine, princess. I promise.”

“Hmm.” She mused.

Geralt almost laughed. She was started to sound like him. He wasn’t sure whether he should be proud of that or not, probably not. “Go get dressed then I’ll help brush your hair.” Geralt shooed her from his room gently. 

She grinned brightly. “Can you braid it too?”

Geralt rolled his eyes but nodded. “If we have time, Roach will be waiting for us.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Ciri wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug and then flew from the room. 

He sighed and ran his hands through his own hair. He needed coffee, and fast. The echoes of his nightmare were haunting him. Jaskier’s tears as Geralt tore away from him, the overwhelming dread in his heart as he’d realised Ciri was going to discover them, the feeling that everything was crumbling around him. 

“Fuck!” 

They had a plan. He knew they had a plan. They were waiting until the summer holidays and then they would tell Ciri they were friends, after a couple of weeks they would broach the subject of their relationship. If Jaskier’s school wouldn’t allow it then he was going to consider becoming a musician full-time, or teaching music to kids who wanted to learn one of the many instruments that Jaskier had in his collection. 

Geralt hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

The guilt that he would have pulled Jaskier from his job, his career, something that he was good at and loved. He wasn’t sure he could cope with that. He didn’t want to be the reason that the man he loved lost everything. 

He got dressed quickly and helped Ciri with her hair. He wasn’t very good at braiding hair yet but he was learning and he found the motion relaxing. Ciri seemed to agree, it was one of the few times she sat still. Geralt made them pancakes for breakfast. He hadn’t meant to but he had the ingredients out from the cupboard before he’d even realised. Ciri was absolutely delighted at the new addition of chocolate chips to the mix. Geralt grumbled about it being a treat because he wasn’t often free on the weekends to spend much time with her. He sneakily took a picture of the pancakes before Ciri got her little hands on them and sent it to Jaskier as Ciri swiped her plate away. 

_G— Introducing Ciri to chocolate pancakes._

Jaskier didn’t respond immediately which meant that he was either composing or still asleep, judging by the time it was the latter. 

Geralt smiled fondly at his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. 

“Why are you smiling?” Ciri asked around a mouthful of pancakes. 

Geralt scowled. “I’m not.”

“Well, you’re not now!” She pouted. “But you were! You were all…” She smiled soppily with wide puppy eyes. 

Geralt grunted. 

“Dad!” She whined. 

“Eat your pancakes,” he muttered. 

“Are you in love?” Ciri asked sweetly. 

Geralt growled. “No.”

“Yes you are!” She sang. “You’re acting like they do in films!” 

“Just eat your breakfast.” 

“Is this why you won’t tell me about your nightmare?” She persisted. 

“No.” 

“Who is it?” She asked with twinkling eyes. 

“No one.”

Ciri gasped and pancakes crumbs flew all over the table. “Is it Mr Jaskier!?” She shrieked. 

Geralt felt his heart stop in his chest for a few beats. “What? No.”

“It is, isn’t it? I’m right. I know I’m right,” she giggled. 

“Cirilla,” he growled and stabbed his own pancakes too forcefully with his fork. “I am not in love, drop it.”

She pouted as they finished breakfast in awkward silence. The silence followed them to the car and all the way to the stables. Ciri flew from the old truck before he could even undo his seatbelt properly. 

“Ciri!” He called after the blur of ashen hair but she wasn’t listening. “Fuck.”

His phone chimed as he was walking over to the stables, a message from Jaskier. He opened the message and almost dropped his phone in the mud. 

Jaskier had sent him a photograph in response. He’d obviously just woken up, his hair was tousled and he had pillow marks on his cheeks. His thick-rimmed glasses were wonky on his nose… and he was wearing very little clothing. 

_J — They look delicious darling. I wish I was there. xxx_

Geralt took a deep breath before typing out a response. 

_G — Not long now._

Jaskier would probably pout over Geralt’s lack of acknowledgment in regards to the photo but he couldn’t find the words, and he had to keep his feelings in check around his daughter. She’d already been far too perceptive this morning, the child was too smart for her own good sometimes. 

His phone rang in his hands. 

Geralt rolled his eyes and answered as he watched Ciri coo at Roach from the yard. She knew not to enter the mare’s stall without Geralt so he wasn’t too worried. 

“Do you know how many selfies it took to get that right, Geralt?” Jaskier snapped in lieu of a greeting. 

Geralt chuckled. “You look good.”

“Good?! Good. Bullshit, I look fucking amazing, Geralt,” Jaskier whined. 

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed. “I’m with Ciri at the stables.” 

“Oooooh. Right. But you did like my picture?” He asked and Geralt could hear the pout in his voice. 

“You know I did,” Geralt scoffed fondly. 

“Still nice to hear,” Jaskier mumbled. 

Geralt glanced over at Ciri, she was completely absorbed in her conversation with Roach. He smiled as he watched them for a few seconds. He spoke quietly so Ciri wouldn’t hear him. “You look incredible, Jask, and if I were there then you wouldn’t be leaving your bed for the rest of the day. I wouldn’t be able to resist you and I wouldn’t have to. You’re mine.” He let a slight growl into his voice at the end, knowing that it never failed to make Jaskier lose his composure. 

Sure enough, Jaskier cursed under his breath. “Fuck, Geralt,” he whined pitifully, which only made Geralt laugh.

“Maybe later. I have to go.”

“Spoilsport.” Jaskier mumbled.

“I’ll send you pictures of Roach.” He promised. 

Jaskier muttered something about wanting pictures of something else. “Fine. I love you, dearest.” 

“You too, Jask.” 

“Have fun with Roach and Ciri.” 

“I will.” Geralt knew he should hang up the phone but after his nightmare he couldn’t quite bear to be the one to let go. Not when the memory of Jaskier begging him not to leave was so fresh in his mind. 

“Are you making me hang up, Geralt Rivia?” Jaskier laughed. 

“Hmm. Yes.” Geralt agreed. 

“Oh fine. Farewell, my love.” Jaskier cooed before the line went dead. 

He sighed and went over to join Ciri with Roach. 

Ciri was scowling as she talked to his old mare. “Oh look who has finally decided to join us.” She muttered with far too much sass for any normal seven year old. 

“Ciri,” he groaned. 

“Sorry? Did you hear something?” Ciri asked Roach. 

Geralt sighed and scratched Roach behind the ear. “I’m sorry, Ciri.”

She huffed but leant into his side. “What for?”

“For getting angry with you. It wasn’t your fault.” He pulled her into a side hug. 

“I was only asking questions,” she grumbled. “Mr Jaskier says it’s good to ask questions because otherwise we’ll never learn.”

Geralt closed his eyes and sighed. “He’s right.” 

“Then why did you yell at me?” She whined. 

Geralt crouched down next to her and took her hands in his. “I’m sorry, princess. I was angry because I didn’t want to answer your questions.”

She pouted. “S’not my fault.”

Geralt tilted his head. “No, I shouldn’t have yelled but sometimes being a parent is hard. I’m going to make mistakes, cub. Can you try and forgive me when I do?”

She stuck her tongue out as she thought about it and then nodded. “Don’t call me Cirilla.” She stated. 

“I won’t.” He agreed and pulled her into a hug. “Shall we get Roach ready to ride?”

“Can I ride without you holding the reins?”

He chuckled. “We’ll see.”

“Pleeeeease.” She pulled back to give him wide puppy eyes. 

Geralt shook his head. “No promises, princess.”

In the end he let Ciri take the reins for a few laps of the training school but he had to put Roach back on a leading rein when Ciri decided it was a good idea to kick the horse into a canter. Ciri sulked but Geralt ignored it. Her safety came first, even if she didn’t believe him. After they’d warmed up Geralt jumped up into the saddle and sat Ciri in front of him. They rode at a casual amble through the woods surrounding the stables until they reached a clearing. It was a well kept secret, one that Geralt guarded closely. It was a beautiful spot, with soft grass and wild flowers scattered across the ground. The way the sun filtered through the trees gave the clearing a magical feel. Ciri firmly believed that it belonged to the fairies and every time they visited she made Geralt leave some of his shiniest small change behind as a thank you for letting them stay. 

They ate the sandwiches Geralt had brought with them and Ciri showed him how to make a chain of flowers. She made a flower crown for both of them out of buttercups. Geralt, in a rare moment of sentimentality, insisted they get a photograph of both of them. Ciri stuck her tongue out at camera and Geralt was frowning as he tried to concentrate on holding the camera still but the result was pretty good. He saved the photo as his lock screen when Ciri wasn’t looking and sent the photograph to Jaskier. 

_G — Looks like you could join us after all._

His phone buzzed almost immediately. 

_J — Geralt! Are those buttercups in your hair?! <3 <3 <3 xxx_

Geralt chuckled. 

_G — Ciri made them._

_J — I love them!! xxx_

_— not as much as I love you though, dear heart. xxx_

“Who are you texting?” Ciri asked as she peered over his shoulder. “Who’s Dear Heart?” 

Geralt suddenly felt incredibly grateful that he’d changed Jaskier’s name in his phone. 

“Umm.”

“Dad! You are in love!!” Ciri gasped. “You lied to me!”

“Umm…” He fumbled for an excuse. 

“When can I meet her?” Ciri stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Him.” Geralt corrected gently. 

“Dad!!” Ciri screamed and he winced as the sound pierced the air. Even Roach looked up from where she was grazing by the trees. 

“Not yet.” Geralt admitted. “Maybe in the holidays.”

“But Dad!” She whined. 

“Please, Ciri.” Geralt sighed. “When I’m sure he’ll be around for a while you can meet him. I, I don’t want you to get your hopes up, alright?”

Ciri glared at him. “You lied to me.”

He grunted. How was it that Ciri was so often parenting him?

Fuck. He was not good at this. 

“Yeah.” He admitted. “Sorry.”

“I forgive you.” She announced proudly. “But only if we can have chocolate pancakes for breakfast again tomorrow!”

Geralt smirked, that he could get behind. “Deal.” He shook her hand. “You drive a hard bargain, little lion cub.”

She put a hand on her hip and tilted her head. “I learnt from the best.”

“Yennefer?”

“Yup!” She giggled. “You should probably tell your boyfriend that you love him too. Otherwise he’ll be sad.”

“I will, princess.” He shook his head and leant back on the grass. 

_G — I love you too._

He found it difficult to say but Jaskier needed words. He thrived off words, whereas Geralt found it easier to express his feelings through actions. Perhaps that was why he’d started buying coffee for Jaskier all those months ago, but actions were hard when they could only really talk via text or phone calls. 

He couldn’t wait until he could actually see Jaskier in person again. 

He just hoped their relationship wouldn’t lose its thrill when it was less than forbidden. He had never been very good at long term relationships before, but with Ciri he couldn’t afford to keep fucking up relationships. It wasn’t fair on her. She’d lost too much, she didn’t need to keep losing parental figures because of his own inability to keep those he loved. 

_G — Ciri knows I have a boyfriend._

_— She doesn’t know who._

Jaskier began typing immediately and Geralt scoffed. It was like the teacher had his phone glued to his hands during the weekend. 

_J — Is she ok with it?_

_— Does she secretly hope it’s me?_

_— No wait don’t answer that. I don’t want to know._

_— I love you more xxx_

_— Can I have a buttercup chain too? I feel left out._

_— Fuck. I miss you. :(_

Geralt sighed as the flurry of texts from Jaskier came through in one go. He tucked his phone into his pocket. He would ring the teacher later before bed. Now was Ciri time. He patted the grass next to him and Ciri curled up into his side. She talked easily about her ukulele lessons, how Priscilla had even shown her a few chords on her smaller sized guitar. Geralt would have to look up how much the guitars cost. He was hoping he could get a full sized one that she would grow into, at the very least she would have her ukulele until her hands were big enough for the new guitar. 

Maybe Jaskier would have a smaller one in his collection that Ciri could borrow over summer. 

He was happy that she was enjoying her lessons. He wondered whether he could tuck her ukulele onto Roach’s saddle next time they were able to come out with her together. He could just imagine the magical clearing filled with music. His traitorous mind took the daydream one stage further with a second horse, probably a grey horse. Jaskier seemed the type to have a grey horse, and he’d probably call it white no matter how many times Geralt told him that they were called grey. Jaskier would bring his guitar along too, maybe even the lute he was so fond of. Geralt would watch him and Ciri playing together in the grassy clearing that Geralt thought of as his own. 

He swallowed and shook the daydream from his head. It was too soon to be thinking about such domesticity. He blamed having a daughter for that, dating with kids was certainly a whole new experience. There was more responsibility much sooner than if he were just to date around, but at least Jaskier already knew about Ciri. It wouldn’t be a horrible shock. Yennefer had made him watch enough of those dating shows on TV, he knew how it went if you didn’t tell your partner early on. No one wanted the baggage of a kid in the equation. 

He pulled gently on the band securing Ciri’s braid and untangled the strands of hair. She whined but he just hummed and brushed through her hair with his fingers. 

“I’ll redo it, I promise,” he muttered. 

“With flowers!” She insisted.

Geralt stared around the clearing. There were still plenty of buttercups in the field but he had no idea how to weave them into hair. “You have the flower crown?” He tried to bargain. 

Ciri huffed and pouted. “But I want flowers!”

Geralt shrugged. “I don’t know how.”

“There are videos,” Ciri insisted. 

“Next time.”

“Promise?” Ciri flashed him a bright smile, her emerald eyes sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Yeah.”

The young girl flung her arms around his neck. “Thank you!” 

They stayed in the clearing until the sun began to set. The temperature dropped considerably, even in the summer heat, and Ciri began to shiver slightly, her eyes were beginning to droop. Geralt lifted her up onto Roach and hopped up behind her. It was a short ride back to the stable at a light canter through the trees. Once they had gotten Roach settled at the stables Geralt carried Ciri back to his old truck. She was practically asleep on his shoulder as he bundled her into the car. He watched her for a few moments in the stillness of the night. 

He’d never asked for parenthood. 

He had even known it was something he’d wanted in life, but Ciri had him completely wrapped around her little finger and for the first time in years he had something beyond work that he really truly loved, completely and unconditionally. 

It was like his life was finally starting to make sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a bit terrible at posting to AO3 recently... It takes a lot of spoons thinking up titles and summaries and tags, but I'm still writing a bunch over on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Also Happy Holidays <3 I hope at least some of you could spend it with loved ones! 
> 
> \- Wolfie


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter from a POV not Geralt or Jaskier, and I had to make it Tissaia seeing as she was pretty much the reason this fic was born. We're starting to wrap up now... I'm kinda sad. I think I started writing this in June and I finished around October? (Yes I've been sitting on chapters.... sorry?) 
> 
> Also check out [this](https://geralt-of-riviass.tumblr.com/post/639870458378027008/i-felt-inspired-by-jaskierswolf-latest-chapter-of) amazing art inspired by the last chapter!! (Also the reason I remembered to post tonight)

Tissaia sighed and straightened the cuffs of her shirt whilst she waited for the teachers and children to fill the school hall. It was finally the last week of term and she had news for the school. It was good news, or at least she thought so. She hoped the rest of the faculty would agree. Philippa Eilhart had emailed her this morning to confirm the results of the investigation into Stregobor and his supporters. It was now up to her to inform the rest of the school. She had hoped that Philippa would be the one to share the news but Tissaia had been left deliver it by herself, although perhaps that wasn’t a such a bad thing after all. Philippa could be quite controlling and Tissaia liked things to be done her own way. She was still bitter about the way Philippa had handled the allegations against Jaskier and Triss.

It had taken too much of Tissaia’s time to convince Philippa that a light slap on the wrist and stern words would be enough, especially with the news that Mr Marx and Mr Degerlund would be allowed to return to the school in the Autumn term. Philippa in particular had wanted Jaskier to be added to the list of suspended teachers. She’d been more lenient towards Triss but Tissaia had had compiled a folder of all the good Jaskier had done for the school and his fights for equality, especially for the LGBT community. Luckily that was a soft spot for Philippa and she’d been talked down. 

She closed her eyes as the air filled with the hustle and bustle of assembly. It was always too loud until she started to speak but she never felt right to demand silence until it was time to begin. Eventually the last class filtered in, Jaskier’s class. The teacher gave her a sheepish smile and found his seat at the old school piano. 

“Good morning!” She called loudly to gather everyone’s attention. The students drawled back her greeting slowly and then settled down, silence finally falling over the room. “Today is the last assembly of the school year, which I’m sure you are all pleased about.”

There was an excited murmur of agreement from both staff and students. 

“Now I know you’re all excited about the holidays but I expect everyone to try their best for the last couple of days. I’m sure if you’re lucky your teachers will have some fun classes lined up, but there’s still no excuse to misbehave.” She reminded everyone sharply. “Before we get to the singing. I have a couple of announcements that I would like to say first.” She glanced at Jaskier who furrowed his brow but nodded. 

“Firstly, I know there has been speculation regarding Mr Ban-Ard’s departure earlier in the school year.”

Another round of chatter from the school hall. 

“I can confirm that Mr Ban-Ard will not be joining us again in September. I’m sure you will all wish him the best for the future but unfortunately, the headmaster will not be back to say his own goodbyes.”

Tissaia didn’t wish Stregobor the best for the future but it was better for the children to be shielded from the truth of the matter. Some of the older students would guess but the younger ones could live in ignorant bliss. She took a moment to survey the hall. The teachers seemed relieved by the news and the older year groups were chattering excitably as they swapped theories and ideas. Tissaia smiled at her students. 

“I have been asked to take his place as permanent headmistress.” She laughed. “However, as honoured as I am to have been offered the role, I miss being able to take more time teaching my students. So I will be back to my usual role by September. I am sure you will give a very warm welcome to whoever replaces me.

Secondly, Mr Marx and Mr Degerlund, as I am sure you all know have also been absent since March, will be returning in September. I’d like to thank Mr Fidháil and Mr Ermion for their dedication and hard work these last few months. It’s been wonderful to have you on the staff.”

The two teachers smiled serenely and nodded back at her. She would be sad to see them go. Mousesack in particular had become a good friend to her in the short time they’d known each other. She hadn’t warmed up to Filavandral quite as much but she knew that Francesca would miss him, they’d been thick as thieves the entire time he’d been at the school. 

“And now, Mr Pankratz, if you will?” She smiled at the year two teacher who’d been brushing dust off the keys at either end of the piano.

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask, Ms de Vries.”

He placed fingers on keys and all the students scrambled to find the right page in the scruffy song books that were shared between two or three people. 

Soon enough assembly drew to a close, Jaskier playing everyone out with a jazzy version of one the choral pieces they’d sang. The last assembly of the year was finished and hopefully the last one Tissaia would have to lead for a long time. Maybe when she was older she would revisit the idea of promotion but for now she was happy with her art class. 

The keys of the piano thunked as the last student left the hall and Jaskier scurried over to her. 

“Ms de Vries!” He called, pulling his music satchel over his shoulder, the sheets of paper stuffed haphazardly into their slots. 

Tissaia crossed her hands in front of her and waited for the young teacher to catch up. “Mr Pankratz?”

He tugged at the strap of his satchel and tossed his fringe from his eyes. “Hi, yes. Umm. Quick question?”

Tissaia rolled her eyes. “Spit it out, Jaskier.”

He smiled nervously and shuffled awkwardly on the balls of his feet. “Yes, good. You see I never actually got an answer to my question a few weeks ago? And with summer coming up…” 

He trailed off and chewed at his lower lip. Tissaia sighed. He seemed so much younger than her, when did she begin to feel so old? 

“Triss said you’d moved on, Jaskier.” She frowned at the bundle of anxious energy in front of her. 

Jaskier laughed brightly, too brightly. Tissaia narrowed her eyes at the younger teacher. He had been happier recently, in fact after a rather sullen March and April, he’d almost completely turned around at the beginning of May. She’s assumed Triss’s explanation of him moving on had been correct but now she wasn’t too sure. He was too invested in summer, in being able to resume his friendship with Geralt and his colleagues. It wasn’t just because he wanted to hang out with Triss and Eskel, or Yen and Istredd. 

It was Geralt.

It had always been Geralt.

“Of course I’ve moved on!” Jaskier insisted, speaking so quickly it was a miracle that he wasn’t tripping up over his words.. “It was just a crush, and Melitele knows how fast I get through crushes.”

“Philippa would say that nothing changes during the summer.” Tissaia noted, watching the light fall from Jaskier’s eyes. “But I would suggest that there is no reason not to be friends with your friend’s friend.” 

Jaskier beamed brighter than the sun. “Oh that is excellent news!” 

“And…” She continued with a smirk. “If you were to get to know the aforementioned friend over summer and sparks were to fly, then that is hardly any concern of the school.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to say something but Tissaia cut him off. 

“Hypothetically speaking of course.”

He nodded. “Oh, of course. Right. Yes. Hypothetical, and hypothetically speaking I would be forever grateful for your support, Tissaia.”

She laughed. “Now get a move on. Those year twos won’t teach themselves. Are they ready for the end of year concert tonight?” 

Jaskier nodded and preened like a peacock. “Naturally, they do have the best musician as their form tutor.” 

“Run along, Mr Pankratz.” Tissaia said firmly. 

He nodded again and pulled his satchel back up his shoulder before hurrying out of the school hall. 

She sighed and shook her head as she watched him go with a smile. He was a chaotic mess at times but she really rather fond of him. He did brighten up the whole school with his charm and his music and his infectious enthusiasm. 

It seemed even her stone cold heart wasn’t entirely immune to the charms of Jaskier Pankratz. 

* * *

The end of term concert was probably one of Tissaia’s least favourite events of the year. The kids were enthusiastic of course but most of them sorely lacked any musical talent. Her poor ear drums suffered every year. The school’s main music teacher, Ms Metz, would be leading the entire school in a short set of songs and then each year group would perform their own act. Some of the year groups performed poetry readings, some short skits, and some preferred music. It mostly depended on the teachers in charge of the year group. The year twos for example had performed a short song with actions whilst Jaskier played guitar every year since he’d joined the school. 

The children were all chattering loudly in the dining hall where they were gathered. The parents, those who wanted to join the festivities, were crammed into the school hall, waiting for the show to start. The rowdiness was giving her a headache, as it always did, but unfortunately this year she could not hide out in her classroom until it was time for her year group. 

Yet another reason to not become the headmistress of Dol Blathanna School. 

She clapped her hands. “Settle down!” She called over the noise. 

The chattering continued. She sighed and cleared her throat. 

“QUIET!” She yelled with as much dignity as she could manage. 

The school hall fell silent, finally. 

“Now, I know the older students have probably heard this a half a dozen times before, but please listen carefully.” She let her words settle over the hundreds of pairs of eager eyes watching her. “It may not feel like it now, but I promise you that the noise from this room does carry to the main hall so please try and keep it down whilst the other year groups are performing. You’ve all worked incredibly hard on your acts so I expect you to respect each other and be quiet when it is not your turn to perform. You did well in rehearsals and I know you can do even better tonight for your parents and guardians.”

There was an excitable murmur from her audience and she gave them what she hoped was an encouraging smile. 

“Year ones, twos and threes, you will be going home after all three year groups have performed at the first short interval. Please do not leave the premises without your form tutors knowing. This is for your own safety. Year fours, I know this will be the first time your year group has stayed for the whole evening. It will seem long but please remember to stay quiet and respect the other acts.”

There was a slight groan from the year fours. It was always hardest on that year group. They were used to a much shorter evening and they were normally overtired by the end of the night. 

“Listen to your teachers and be kind to each other, but, most importantly.” She smiled widely at the students. “Enjoy yourselves. This should be a fun evening and a chance to show off to your parents and guardians. Now on with the show!”

She turned away from the students and let the smile fall from her face with a tired sigh. To the gods she couldn’t wait until the school had a full-time head teacher again. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round to see Triss beaming at her. 

“You did well, Tissaia.” Triss said softly. 

“Thank you, Triss.” Tissaia answered in a low whisper so the children wouldn’t hear. “I can’t say I’ll be sorry to let all of this go.”

Triss shrugged. “It suits you. I understand why you didn’t take the promotion but the role suits you.”

Tissaia sighed. “Maybe in a few years time I’ll reconsider. Philippa was disappointed when I didn’t take it.” 

Triss laughed and Tissaia couldn’t help but smile. Triss had always had an infectious laugh. It wasn’t necessarily the most traditionally beautiful of laughs, she had a tendency to snort, but it was so joyful that it always made those around her smile and join in with the laughter. 

“Thank you.” She repeated and gripped her friends arm. She wasn’t much of a hugger but she knew that Triss would understand. 

“Anytime, Tissaia.”

Tissaia tugged at her sleeves and brushed down her skirt. It was show time. 

* * *

Tissaia’s ears were ringing from all the singing. The year threes had just finished their performance and now it was time for the younger groups to meet up with their adults and go home. This would allow more space for some of the parents from the older year groups to filter into the hall as the younger ones left. It probably wasn’t the most efficient way of running their end of year concert but it was tradition. She had considered changing it this year, taking the whole day off classes, instead of just the afternoon. Typically they had a whole school rehearsal in the afternoon but could have been swapped to the morning and the concert could have taken place in the afternoon instead of after school. 

It was too late now. 

And she wasn’t one to mess with school tradition. 

The younger children were now squealing excitably as they tried to find their adults. She caught Filavandrel’s eyes from across the room. He looked as exhausted as she felt. She often wondered why the man had become a primary school teacher. He didn’t particularly seem to enjoy the company of younger children, much like Yennefer, but he had been a life saver this term whilst Mr Marx was away so she didn’t like to question it too much. 

She glanced around to where Jaskier was flailing his arms about and chattering excitably with his class. She shook her head fondly. He was almost the opposite of Filavandrel. The young teacher was too much like his children at times. She drifted closer so she could listen in to his conversation with his class. She was impressed by the confidence with which he now signed for Dara. At the beginning of the term he could barely sign and talk at the same time, he had a habit of sticking his tongue out whilst he concentrated and his words often trailed off as he focused on his hands. 

Now he signed almost without thinking. She’d caught him doing it in the staffroom a couple of times before he realised and had to sit on his hands. 

“Honestly, I know I say this every year, but I think you guys are my best class yet!” He grinned, his eyes were almost twinkling with excitement. Jaskier was probably on an adrenaline high just like his kids. “I am so proud of every single one of you. You were brilliant out there! Yes Marilka, even you. Stop looking so grumpy. I promised no one even noticed you trip… except me of course.” 

Tissaia smirked as he fumbled over his mistake.

“You know what. I’m going to bring you all cake tomorrow! Just don’t tell your parents.” He winked and the whole class giggled. “Now, I remember there were no nuts for you Kayleigh, Iskra you can’t have gluten right?”

One of the dark haired girls nodded with a wide smile. 

“Any other allergies? No? Well I’ll check with Ms Merigold just to make sure.” He licked his lips and tossed his fringe from his eyes. “Now! Who can see their adults?”

The kids all yelled loudly. Jaskier winced and covered his ears. “Inside voices!” He laughed with a wide wave of his arms. 

Tissaia noticed Geralt and Yennefer approach before Jaskier did and she shuffled slightly closer, not wanting to miss this particular interaction. 

“DAD!” Ciri screamed. 

“Ah, Geralt!” Jaskier blushed, but Tissaia supposed that could have been blamed on the heat of the room. 

“Mr Pankratz.” Geralt smirked as he wrapped his arms around Ciri’s shoulders. The young girl had launched herself at her father like an arrow leaving a bowstring. 

“Buttercup.” Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him but Tissaia could see the smile her young friend was hiding. 

“Mum!” Ciri extracted herself from her father’s arms and clung to Yennefer instead. 

“Hello, Princess.” Yennefer cooed. “Did Geralt do this?” She pulled at the intricate braid that fell down Ciri’s back. 

“Yup!” Ciri grinned. “We practiced with Roach at the weekend but Dad said I couldn’t have flowers tonight.” 

“Geralt!” Jaskier chided with an affectionate smile. “No flowers? Shame on you.” 

Geralt glowered at Ciri’s teacher but Tissaia smirked at the matching blushes the pair of them now shared. 

“Maybe next time.” Geralt grumbled. 

“Mr Pankratz?” Another parent interrupted the discussion so Geralt and Yennefer guided Ciri towards the exit. 

Tissaia didn’t miss the way Jaskier’s eyes lingered on Geralt even whilst talking to Mistle’s mother, and Geralt looked back at Jaskier more than once. Tissaia saw Yennefer roll her eyes and say something in Geralt’s ear before pulling away from Ciri and gracefully gliding across the room towards Istredd. 

Tissaia tilted her head as she watched her two oldest friends talk. They were standing closer than she would have expected, more than once Istredd’s finger brushed against Yennefer’s wrists. 

She scoffed. Yennefer had kept that quiet. She would have to ask her about it when they next all went to dinner or the pub. She’d heard from Jaskier’s outburst in her office that the pair were seeing each other again but that was three weeks ago and Tissaia had, perhaps wrongfully, assumed they would have split up by now. Yennefer had an unfortunate habit of pushing those who cared for her away. When things got too serious she would lash out to protect her own heart, and especially given her long history with Istredd, Tissaia was surprised to see that things appeared to be working out alright.

After about ten minutes or so most of the younger children had either left or joined their parents to watch older siblings so it was time to start again. 

She sighed as she stepped back up onto the stage. 

Would this evening ever end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you can find me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) for more witchery goodness! Come say hi! I love to chat! I'm also taking prompts for Aro awareness week in February so if you've got any ideas swing by my inbox! 
> 
> \- Wolfie


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Jaskier has a small panic attack.

Saturday. 

Finally! 

The first day of the summer holidays! Jaskier had barely been able to resist throwing his arms around Geralt the day before when the fireman had come to collect Ciri after school but they’d both agreed that they should at least try to wait until the weekend. So he’d forcibly stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled on his feet. He couldn’t help the dazzling smile he flashed at Geralt but at least he managed to keep his hands to himself. 

But that was now a thing of the past. 

He sat up in bed with more energy than he’d had in the mornings in years. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair as he searched for his phone within the pile of sheets. He found the bastard under one of his pillows and immediately rang Geralt without looking at the time. 

It rang a few times before Geralt picked up. 

“The fuck?” Geralt grumbled into the phone. 

Jaskier frowned and pulled the phone away from his ear so he could look at the time. “Oh shit!” He cackled and then put the phone on speaker. “Sorry, darling. I’m still on school time.”

“Jaskier, you’re never on school time, even during term time,” Geralt muttered. 

“Oh shush. I just wanted to say that I love you!” He trilled happily. 

Geralt grunted. 

“Oh ho ho! Aren’t you a grumpy arse this morning?” Jaskier giggled and rolled onto his back, planting his legs up against the wall. 

“Fuck off.” 

“No! Because it is the school holidays and I, Jaskier Pankratz, love you, Geralt Rivia.” He sighed wistfully. 

“Hmm.” 

“Geralt!” He whined. 

He knew the fireman was tired but he could at least say it back once. The fucker. 

“Love you too, now can I get back to sleep?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear heart, but call me when you’re awake, alright?” 

“Fine.” 

The line went dead. 

The bastard. 

He considered going back to sleep himself but he had too much energy. He jumped out of bed, tripping over his shoes that were on the floor right by his bed, and went flailing across the room. 

“Oh cock!” He cursed as he landed, rather painfully, against the door. He would probably have a lovely bruise on the hip that crashed against the wall, but it was better than landing on his wrists and breaking them. 

He sort of needed those to play his instruments. 

He supposed he could always just sing. 

Nah. That was shit. 

Plus Priscilla would kill him if he couldn’t finish up the new album. He still had at least one lute track to put down, and even though she could play the lute, he was more skilled and she preferred to focus on the singing. She’d complained enough about his insistence on using the lute over the guitar on this album but he’d refused to back down. He had a vision!

So fuck the guitar.

He sighed and straightened his glasses, frowning as he noticed the smudges on the lenses. How the fuck were they already dirty? He’d only cleaned them last night before bed. 

Fuck it. 

Pancakes! 

Ooh he could make the chocolate chip kind and send photos to Geralt. They had an unspoken rule that one did not make chocolate chip pancakes without photographic evidence unless they were both there to enjoy it. He frowned as he reached the edge of his living/kitchen area, and stuck his tongue between his lips. Maybe he should wait until he could make pancakes with Geralt and Ciri? He didn’t want to make them too often. They wouldn’t be special if he made them too often. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, well. I’m hungry.” He muttered. He gazed longingly at the flour and sugar on the top shelf of his cupboards and then grabbed a box of chocolate cereal instead. 

Yes he still ate chocolate cereal. The boring old flakey stuff was shit and he actually had taste buds. He preferred his food to not taste like cardboard. 

Gods, how was he an adult?

He sighed and scrolled through the social media on his phone. Triss had put up a few pictures from the pub the night before. He’d reluctantly declined the invitation as the wolves were going along, even though Geralt had stayed behind to look after Ciri. There were quite a few of Triss and Eskel pulling funny faces at the camera, and one adorable photo of Triss kissing his cheek. Eskel looked incredibly happy. They were cute together. Jaskier hit the heart button and typed out a string of heart-eyes emojis in the comments. 

Even Yennefer had put up a rare personal post. She normally kept her social media for her art stuff but there was a stunning photograph of her outside the pub. She was wearing a long white chiffon dress matched with a leather jacket and heavy leather boots, not exactly summery but it was Yennefer. She was gazing off to the side, her face lit by dull glow of the street lamps, one fiery violet eye almost glowing in the darkness. 

Jaskier pouted. How was she so fucking photogenic all the time? Seriously how was Geralt now dating him after that? 

“Urgh,” he groaned and hit the heart button. 

_JaskierTheBard: Stop making us all look bad, Yennefer! Stunning photograph darling x_

He reread the reply twice and hit send. It was kinder than he usual response to Yennefer but honestly he had to admit she was a little bit sexy in that one, which just wasn’t fair. 

Renfri had posted a group photo of the whole gang and he whined. It looked like a fun night. Stupid Philippa and her rules. It wasn’t fair that he had to miss out, but thankfully those days were officially over! 

He lost track of time as he scrolled on his phone. He swore as he suddenly remembered his cereal. He groaned as he peered into his bowl. The milk was chocolatey and the cereal had all but disintegrated. He fucking hated soggy cereal. 

“Cock,” he muttered and threw the whole lot in the bin. 

He was about to put some toast on when his door bell rang. He yelped and jumped at the sound. He looked down at himself. He was still just wearing his boxers. Fuck. He ran to his bedroom and grabbed his dressing gown. It was too hot really to wear it in the summer but he wouldn’t have time to get dressed. 

As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. Geralt was at the door holding a bunch of roses with a sheepish smile on his face. 

Jaskier grinned. “Geralt!” He flung his arms around his boyfriends neck and then swore as he realised he was probably crushing the flowers. “Umm, let me just go get some water. Wait. These are for me? They are beautiful. Geralt!” He whined and covered his face in his hands. 

Geralt, the fucker, just laughed at him. “They’re for you. I thought… well, Ciri said I couldn’t go on a date without flowers. She was really stubborn about it.” 

Jaskier snorted and carefully took the flowers from Geralt. They weren’t too badly crushed, thank Melitele for that. “I wonder where she gets that from,” he teased. 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calanthe, her grandmother. Even Pavetta had a stubborn streak. Trust me, this one has nothing to do with me.” 

Jaskier’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit! I’m sorry. I forgot. I didn’t mean… hmmph!” 

Geralt had kissed him. 

Not that he was complaining. He smiled into the kissed and then pulled back to gaze into Geralt’s beautiful amber eyes. 

“You don’t get to do that every time you want me to shut up, dearest,” he chided gently. 

Geralt smirked and just kissed him again. 

Ok so perhaps he could. 

Gods he was so smitten. 

“I love you,” he breathed against Geralt’s lips when they finally pulled apart. 

Geralt brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “I love you too, even if you do have morning breath.” 

Jaskier gasped and shoved against Geralt’s chest. “Rude!” He pouted.

“You love me,” Geralt reminded him. “How are you not dressed yet? You’ve been awake for hours.” 

Jaskier shrugged. “Internet.” 

“Come on, get dressed. I want to take you out.” Geralt instructed with a tilt of his head. 

Jaskier laughed. “Take me out how? Kill me or date me? Honestly I’m down for both.” 

“Jaskier!” Geralt growled and rolled his eyes. 

“Kill me, right. Got it,” he winked at his boyfriend. “Now are you absolutely sure you want me to get dressed? Because I have the perfect outfit to wear but once I’m in those jeans I am not taking them off again,” he stroked Geralt’s cheek with one finger and then bopped him on the nose. 

“Hmm. Brush your teeth and I’ll get water for the flowers.” Geralt took the roses back off him. “Do you have a vase?” 

Jaskier scoffed. “Of course I have a vase. I’m gay!” 

“That’s not an excuse for everything, Jaskier, and I’m pretty sure you’re bi,” Geralt rolled his eyes. 

Jaskier laughed. “That’s just homophobic.”

“That’s not—” Geralt cut himself off and pinched his nose. “Bathroom. Now. I’ll find the vase.” 

Jaskier giggled happily and went to brush his teeth. 

Oh sweetest Melitele! He loved the summer holidays!

* * *

After a few false starts they finally made it out of Jaskier’s flat. He was slightly regretting his choice in black skinny jeans but really they made his legs and arse look great. It was was his first proper date with Geralt and he wanted to look good. They both managed a quick shower and Jaskier braided Geralt’s hair to elevate his usual half up do. Geralt even let Jaskier slip a couple of buttercup clips into the braids. 

Geralt was wearing the outfit he’d turned up it which Jaskier hadn’t managed to appreciate before but he could now as he gazed happily at his partner across the table. Geralt had also gone for black skinny jeans, thank you Freya, and a slick black short-sleeved shirt. Honestly Jaskier didn’t know how the man wasn’t boiling in the heat of the summer in all that black but he wasn’t going to complain. It was the first time he’d seen Geralt in a shirt and he was loving it. 

In comparison Jaskier had decided on a bright turquoise shirt. He’d left the bottom few buttons undone and tied the ends in a knot to turn the shirt into a crop top. The intensity of Geralt’s gaze on him when he’d finally been allowed to see the whole look had almost cause yet another delay to their date but Jaskier had just winked and pulled his slightly dazed partner out of the flat, switching his glasses for his prescription sunglasses. 

He had been far too hungry to delay any further and he wanted to go on a cute date with his boyfriend!

Geralt suggested an adorable little sandwich parlour. It didn’t look like much from the outside but inside it was cosy and quiet, a perfect lunchtime date spot. 

Or it would have if they hadn’t been interrupt by Lambert and Renfri… again. 

Seriously, every time they ended up in a coffee shop those two were there. They both had wet hair and flushed red faces. Jaskier assumed the pair of them had been at the gym. Geralt had mentioned they liked to spar together on the wolf pack’s days off, that and the work out clothes sort of gave them away. 

“Well, well, well,” Lambert laughed as they approached and crossed his arms. “So much for Triss and Eskel’s theory of you moving on, Dandelion.” 

Jaskier gaped at the redhead. “Wait what? Have you been talking about us?!” He pointed a finger at the pair of them. 

Renfri rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think they have anything better to do? I’ve had to keep my mouth shut for months whilst these idiots try and think of a plan to set you two up. Triss was heartbroken when you told her you’d moved on. She was really rooting for you guys.” 

“Wait, you knew?” Lambert growled at Renfri, she just shoved him in the face.

“Of course I knew. It was fucking obviously. You just had to look at Geralt’s face whenever Jaskier was mentioned. He lit up like a petrol can.”

“Renfri,” Geralt sighed. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Renfri snorted and Jaskier cackled. Oh ho! He was going to have so much fun with this. He held Geralt’s hand over the top of the table and smiled at his lover. “Oh darling, I didn’t know you cared so much,” he simpered with a flutter of his eyelashes. 

“I’m pretty sure I showed you how much I care this morning, more than once.” 

Jaskier blushed and pulled his hand away. “Touché, dear heart, touché,” he licked his lips as he remembered the morning’s activities. “Please, feel free to remind me any time.” 

“Nope!” Lambert yelled and covered his ears. “No. You are not going to be _that_ couple. Urgh.”

“Months I’ve had to put up with this!” Renfri complained. “Come on, wolf. Let’s leave the love birds in peace. They’ll put me off my lunch otherwise.”

“So gross,” Lambert agreed. 

Jaskier laughed as the pair of them scarpered from the shop, and he rested his head on his chin as he ate his chips. They were like the kind you get in fish and chip shops and covered in blessed salty goodness. Geralt, the monster that he was, covered his with vinegar so Jaskier wouldn’t steal his chips as well. 

“So what’s their deal?” Jaskier asked though mouthfuls of delicious fried potato. 

Geralt tilted his head, he also now had a mouthful of cheesesteak sandwich. 

“They said they weren’t dating?” Jaskier tried to explain.

Geralt huffed and Jaskier waited for him to finish eating. “Renfri doesn’t date. She has no interest in it.”

Jaskier nodded. “Asexual?”

Geralt shook his head. “Don’t think so. Just the dating thing,” he scowled as he tried to formulate his thoughts. “I think she called it aromantic, but even then her and Lambert are practically siblings. They’d probably both stab you for suggesting anything else.” 

“Right. Noted. Rather not be stabbed. I made it all the way through the school year. It would be a fucking shame if I got stabbed now,” he flicked his fringe from his eyes. “Especially when you look so bloody sexy in that shirt.”

Geralt scoffed. “Says the man wearing a crop top.”

Jaskier grinned and leant forward so his lips were almost touching Geralt’s. “It would look better on your bedroom floor, darling.” 

Geralt’s eyes went dark and Jaskier kissed the tip of his nose. “But not yet. I’m starving and these chips are brilliant! I cannot believe you would ruin them with vinegar.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a fucking tease, Jaskier.”

Jaskier just laughed and brushed his foot up against Geralt’s leg under the table. “You love it,” he agreed with a wink. 

“Hmm.” 

“You doooo,” Jaskier insisted. “And you love me!” 

“I admit nothing.”

“I’ll make it up to you later?” He flashed his most flirtatious grin at Geralt, rubbing his foot further up Geralt’s leg. 

“Jask,” Geralt half moaned and Jaskier laughed at the pretty blush on Geralt’s cheek. 

“Yes, dearest Geralt?” He sang, feigning innocence. 

“I hate you.” His boyfriend groaned and hid his face behind his hands. 

“I know, love. I know.” 

* * *

Jaskier was busy pulling on one of Geralt’s hoodies that he’d pinched earlier on in their relationship, when Geralt sighed loudly. Jaskier bounced back over to the bed and straddled his boyfriend’s hips. 

“What’s up, dear heart?” He said with a tilt of his head. 

Geralt’s long hair was now loose. Jaskier had taken great delight in undoing his own work and letting the silver strands fall loosely by Geralt’s face. His hair was naturally wavy after a shower anyway but it had been accentuated where the braids had been, and by the gods, Geralt had looked so beautiful. He still did. Only now he had his grumpy face back on. Jaskier gently stroked his thumb along Geralt’s cheek, brushing a loose strand away from his eyes.

“We need to tell Ciri,” Geralt groaned. 

“Already? I thought we were going to tell her we’re friends first.”

“Won’t work.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow and huffed. “And why not?”

“She’s too clever, and I love you,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier felt his smile soften at Geralt’s words and he shifted so he could lie back down on Geralt’s chest, nuzzling into the crook of Geralt’s neck. “And I love you, my dearest of hearts.”

“Hmm.” He felt Geralt kiss the top of his hair and he sighed happily. 

“So we tell her when?” 

“Come home with me?” Geralt suggested. “She knows I was on a date.”

“It has been a long date,” Jaskier hummed thoughtfully, and it really had. Geralt had arrived mid-morning at it was now late afternoon bordering on early evening. “Won’t she be worried about you?”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier felt his heart race faster in his chest. Geralt’s laugh was so warm, rough and woefully underused. It always made Jaskier’s day when he could make Geralt laugh so freely. “Yennefer took her to the zoo. She thought we might need the extra time.”

Jaskier giggled. “I cannot imagine Yennefer Vengerberg at the zoo!” He laughed harder as he pressed his face against Geralt’s bare shoulder. 

“Why?” 

“Oh I don’t know,” he grinned, placing a kiss on Geralt’s shoulder. “She seems too classy for the zoo.”

Geralt threaded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and he hummed in contentment. He’d always enjoyed it when his partners played with his hair. The gentle tug at his scalp just turned him to goo. If he was a cat he was sure he’d be purring. As it was he couldn’t stop the happy hum in his chest. 

“No one is too classy for the zoo,” Geralt said with such sincerity that Jaskier let out a peal of laughter and rolled onto the mattress next to Geralt. He felt Geralt roll onto his side and their eyes met. Geralt was smirking at him with mirth in his eyes. 

Jaskier was overwhelmed with the love that was in his heart. In reality his time with Geralt really hadn’t been that long at all but it had just been blissful. Their forbidden romance seemed to have extended their honeymoon period and he still felt as gooey over his boyfriend as he had the first time he’d seen Geralt enter his classroom ten months prior. 

“Quite right, dear. I love the zoo,” he sighed longingly. It had been ages since he had been. 

“Next time we’ll go.” Geralt suggested. “I like the animals.”

“Deal. Ooh does this mean I finally get to meet Roach?!” He cried in excitement, a smile lighting up his face. 

Geralt nodded. “She doesn’t like new people though. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Jaskier reached over to kiss Geralt and then rest his forehead against Geralt’s. “Of course not, darling.”

“Good…” Geralt paused. “Darling.”

Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest and he buried his face in one of the pillows of the bed, making sadly incoherent noises that he wasn’t proud of. “Geralt!!” He whined pitifully. “You can’t just say things like that!” 

Geralt scoffed. “You do all the time.”

Jaskier glared at him with a pout. He could feel the heat of the blush on his cheek. “Yeah, well…”

“Don’t worry.” Geralt smirked, kissing Jaskier’s temple. “I don’t think pet names are my thing.”

Jaskier pouted. “Hmmph.”

Reluctantly he rolled off the bed and pulled Geralt to his feet. With one last kiss he let Geralt get dressed. His boyfriend really did need to get back to Ciri and apparently Jaskier was going to be re-introduced to the young girl as her father’s new boyfriend; only a day after the term had finished. 

Jaskier wasn’t nervous. Why would he be? Ciri loved him… as her teacher. Oh gods, he was going to fuck this up so badly. His heart was racing, and not in the good I’m in love way. Oh no. No, no, no, no. 

He gasped a breath and leant against the wall. Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist in an instance. “Breathe, Jaskier.”

Jaskier breathed, trying to match his breath with Geralt’s. “Sorry,” he mumbled when the worst of it was over.

“What happened?” 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He asked, his voice sounding pathetic even to his ears. 

“She adores you, Jaskier.” Geralt nuzzled his neck gently. “She was disappointed when I said it wasn’t you.”

Jaskier groaned. “She’ll hate that you lied to her.”

“She’ll come round.” Geralt insisted. 

“How are you so calm?” He snapped.

Geralt sighed. “Because she’s my daughter and she loves me, and she adores you.” 

Jaskier nodded. “Ok. Ok. Yes. Let’s do this, before I run away and decide to live in a cave with just my lute for company.”

Geralt scoffed. “Always so dramatic.”

Jaskier managed a smile at that, even after his little wobble of anxiety. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.” 

* * *

They were standing, hand in hand, outside Geralt’s house. Geralt and Ciri’s house. Jaskier hadn’t been here since the beginning of May when Ciri had been away with Yennefer. Ciri wasn’t away this time and they were about to reveal everything to her. He curled his toes in his shoes and hummed nervously under his breath. Geralt’s house suddenly seemed a lot larger than it had before. 

Geralt squeezed his hand. “It’ll be fine, Jask.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I know. I know. I trust you.”

“Come on then. You’ll stay for dinner?”

Jaskier nodded again. “But I should probably go home after dinner. I imagine we’ll both need our own space by then.” 

Geralt chuckled quietly. “Yeah. Ready?”

“Yes?” Jaskier’s voice squeaked a little, much to his embarrassment.

“Good.” Geralt moved to unlock the front door but it opened before he could get the key in the lock.

Yennefer stood on the other side with her hands on her hips. She was smirking at them both, looking far too evilly delighted for Jaskier’s liking. 

“MR JASKIER!!” Ciri shrieked and there was a blur of blonde hair before Jaskier was knocked flying by the young girl. 

He laughed nervously and hugged her back. “Hello, Ciri.” 

“I knew it was you!!” She screamed happily. “Dad said it wasn’t but I knew it was you!” 

“You don’t mind?” Jaskier asked, tentatively patting his former student on the back as she clung onto him.

Ciri pulled back and looked up at him. Her nose was scrunched up and she pouted. “Why would I mind?”

“Well, because I was your teacher and now I’m dating your father?” Jaskier stammered. He glanced at Geralt who just raised a knowing eyebrow at him. The bastard had known this would happen. 

Ciri rolled her eyes and scoffed. “So? Everyone will be jealous. You’re the best teacher at school!” She announced as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “Maybe you shouldn’t boast too much about it Ciri. It’s not kind.”

Ciri just stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue out right back at her and she giggled. 

“Jaskier’s right, princess. It would be best if you don’t tell everyone just yet,” Geralt said as he scooped her up into a hug. 

“But it’s Mistle’s birthday party next week!” She pouted. 

“Ciri,” Yennefer sighed, brushing the young girl’s hair out of her eyes. “Can we trust you to keep this a secret for now?”

Ciri scrunched her nose but nodded. “Ok, but only if we can go back to see the lions at the zoo! They were my favourite.”

Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes and smiled. “Well, buttercup, funny you should say that….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very nearly finished! I am actually a bit sad about that. What am I going to do?? 
> 
> I have lots of oneshots and short stories though for witcher so maybe check out them here or on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/post/627350905703006208/wolfies-witcher-masterlist-updated-18012021). I take prompts so if there's anything you want to see drop me an [ask](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/ask).
> 
> \- Wolfie


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mother of fuck.... the end? 
> 
> This is an epilogue of sorts! No warnings in this one.

Geralt grumbled as he struggled to get his key in the lock. He was fucking exhausted. Summer had flown by too quickly but at least he didn’t have to juggle childcare so much now she was back at school. Term had just started back and it had been difficult getting back into the routine of dropping Ciri off at school in the mornings. She was now in year three and growing up way too fast. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he pushed open the door. As soon as he pushed through the door he was assaulted by a streak of ashen blonde hair and a wild shriek of excitement. He smiled faintly, shaking his head. He really needed to give Coën a pay rise. Ciri was more than a handful at times, but he liked her energy. He was dreading her teenage years. He remembered exactly how grumpy he’d been as a teenager. Vesemir had been incredibly patient with him. 

He kissed the top of Ciri’s hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was almost getting too big for him to carry her like this but he was going to milk every second of it. 

“Hey, cub,” he hummed as he lowered her to the ground. “Did you and Coën have tea yet?”

Ciri cackled and put her hands on her hips. “Nope!”

He furrowed his brow as he looked down at his daughter. He didn’t trust the way her eyes were twinkling. She was fucking up to something. “What?”

“Nothing!” She sang in a way that meant she was lying. 

“Ciri…” he warned. 

She shrieked and ran away. He chased her into the living room but before he could catch her someone jumped on his back and hands covered his eyes. 

“Fuck!” He swore as he stumbled back from the sudden weight. 

“Guess who?” Jaskier’s voice was soft and warm against his ear. 

Geralt smirked. “Valdo?” He teased. 

Jaskier whined and he untangled himself from Geralt’s back, dropping to the floor with a soft thud. “Geralt Roger Eric Riva!”

Geralt chuckled and spun round so he could see his boyfriend. They hadn’t seen each other since term started up again, both too busy with work. “Yes, love?”

Jaskier blushed and melted against Geralt’s chest. Geralt kissed his hair as he wrapped his arms around Jaskier, pulling him into a hug. “You’re an arse.”

“Hmm.” 

“Gross,” Ciri muttered. 

Jaskier turned to stick his tongue out at her. “Gross to you too.” 

Geralt let his boyfriend go and wandered through into the kitchen to get a drink. He needed something fizzy and caffeinated. “You didn’t say you were coming over?” He called to Jaskier who was now chattering to Ciri on the sofa. “Drink?” 

“I wanted to surprise you, darling. Can you put the kettle on?” Jaskier called back. 

Geralt smiled to himself as he filled he kettle up. Jaskier had slotted into his routine at home seamlessly. Most nights Jaskier would stay at his own house. They were trying to keep things moving at a slow pace, for Ciri’s sake. Geralt didn’t want the young girl to be confused if his relationship with Jaskier grew too serious too quickly and then fell apart, but every time Jaskier did stay it was as if he was meant to be there. Ciri adored him even if she still hadn’t quite gotten used to not calling him Mr Jaskier. Jaskier and Geralt would dance around each other in the kitchen without getting in each other’s way. Jaskier would curl up on one side of him on the sofa with Ciri on his other side as they all watched My Little Pony together. Some evenings Jaskier and Ciri would put on a music show together. Their duets were the highlights of Geralt’s life. 

He dropped a chamomile tea bag into Jaskier’s mug. It was one of mugs with thermal paint. It was black until the boiling water was poured in. The black painted faded away to reveal a picture of Geralt and Ciri in buttercup flower crowns with Roach grazing in the background. Geralt had bought it for him after their second official date. Jaskier now refused to use any other mug when he was round Geralt’s house. 

Arms wrapped around his waist and there was a press of lips against his neck. “Hello, dearest.”

Geralt smiled and covered Jaskier’s arms with his own. “I’m trying to make your tea, Jask.”

Jaskier laughed melodically and kissed Geralt’s cheek. “And I love you for it.”

“Hmm.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” Jaskier sighed. “You don’t mind me coming over like this?” 

Geralt scoffed. “Cheaper than a baby sitter.”

Jaskier made an offended squeaking noise and jabbed him hard in the side. “Rude!”

Geralt laughed and grabbed Jaskier’s hand as he spun round to kiss his boyfriend. “I love you.”

Jaskier’s scowled softened into a fond smile and he cupped Geralt’s cheek. Geralt pressed against Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier’s eyes were a shimmering cornflower blue and Geralt knew he’d found his home there. He was almost overwhelmed by that feeling in his heart and he buried his face in Jaskier’s neck with a grunt. Jaskier’s hands threaded through his hair and he chuckled. “I love you too, dear heart, I love you too.”

“Hmm.” 

“So Ciri said it was chicken nuggets and chips for dinner?” Jaskier asked. 

“Lying little shit,” Geralt grumbled into the warmth of Jaskier’s neck, knowing Ciri wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Yen’s been trying to get her to eat more veg. She hates it.”

“I like chicken nuggets.”

“Don’t encourage her.”

Jaskier laughed. “Of course not, darling,” he paused. “I really do love chicken nuggets though.”

Geralt growled and pulled back to glare at his boyfriend. Jaskier was pouting at him with wide eyes that made Geralt’s heart melt. He gave a deep sigh and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Fuck.”

“I’ll put the oven on!” Jaskier sang.

“Next time we’re eating proper food,” Geralt muttered. “We can’t have freezer food every time you visit.”

“What about take out?”

“No, Jaskier.”

“Lasagna?”

Geralt frowned. That had tomatoes in. That had to count. “Fine.”

“With garlic bread?” Jaskier’s eyes widened more and he seemed to pout with his entire body. 

“Yen will kill us both,” Geralt sighed. 

Jaskier grinned and pulled their lips together. “But it’s oh so worth it, my darling.”

Geralt thought back over the last year. It had been a complete roller coaster of emotions that he wasn’t used to feeling. He’d been hurt more than he had in years but with Jaskier here with him now, laughing and smiling away without a care in the world.

It had been worth it. Every single day. 

“Three things?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “You, dear heart.” 

“That’s only one.” 

Jaskier winked and flashed him a dashing smile. “You’re all I need, my love.”

Geralt scoffed but kissed Jaskier once more. “Romantic fool,” he grumbled against Jaskier’s lips as he pressed their foreheads together. 

“For you, my love, always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me on this one! It's been... an experience? I think this is my only story of this length planned in this fandom. I'm currently posting the next multi-chapter story of my Shifter!Jask AU, and I have a whole bunch of things planned on the tumblr. (Some of which will eventually end up on my AO3)
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com).
> 
> \- Wolfie


End file.
